


Twisting the Harvest

by akasakasan



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Hyena Xander Harris, M/M, Vampire Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:46:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 26,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akasakasan/pseuds/akasakasan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse isn't the one who gets vamped during the Harvest, Xander is. Willow continues her friendship with Xander and looks after him without Jesse or Buffy knowing. So what happens when Angel finds out Willow's secret?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She disappeared inside the dilapidated mansion, third time this week by his count. It wasn’t like little Willow to keep secrets and if she was somehow hurting Buffy... there was a reason that slayers worked alone. Angel grimaced, thinking about the lanky, over-talkative pest and the shy redhead that had somehow joined together with Buffy, treating the entire slayer gig as a joke, infuriating him. They treated everything as a game; foolish little children who didn’t realise that their lives were in danger, didn’t realise that they were fighting a battle with a very real cost.

Angel thought of the tall, darkhaired kid, barely out of diapers, that followed Buffy around, lusting after her, and growled quietly. Every time he approached the boy he could smell the lust pouring of him in waves. Buffy was his! She was the kind of redemption a monster like him could only dream for, the light that would bring him out of the darkness. Some teenager with greasy hair and acne wasn’t going to take that away from him.

Angel made his way to the mansion, quietly slipping in through the door and following Willow’s scent down the winding corridors till he reached a small room, standing in the doorway and waiting to see what the little redhead was doing. He breathed in the different scents; the nauseating stench of a barbeque occurring a few houses away and the smells of the old mansion, dust, the faint smell of the previous inhabitants and of children who occasionally came to here on dares, paint, the rusting of metal, the smell of sweet shampoo and innocence that Angel associated with Willow and a different smell. Something rotting, the rancid smell of the grave and of blood and death and Angel gave a start, quickly peeping in through the door, fangs bared and in game face.

Stupid, _stupid_ little girl.

Willow was on her knees before a grubby boy, her own age probably when he was turned. He was in game face and drinking from a blood bag, gulping down each drop as though it was ambrosia, lips tainted red as copper eyes slitted in pleasure. A manacle was locked onto his foot, a chain leading from it to a rocky wall leaving him effectively imprisoned with little room to move. Beside him were empty blood bags and comic books and as Angel watched Willow reached into the satchel she had with her and deposited a few more comics beside the fledge, who had finished drinking and was now eagerly pawing through the items Willow had brought him. Angel listed in on the conversation, the fledges voice pitiful and rasping in his excitement as he flipped through page after colourful page of comics.

“Did you bring it? You promised me, Wills. I have to have it... need to see it.” Willow took out a photo from her satchel, clearly taken a few years back in which Willow, Jesse and this boy were standing in the sunshine, carefree and laughing. The boy grabbed at it, holding on to it as though it was the most precious thing in the world. He stroked Jesse’s face in the small photo, his eyes watering; body miserably huddled in on himself.

“He doesn’t want to see me, does he Willow?” the boy asked, a few tears escaping and making their way down his pale face, which had begun flicking between his vampiric features and those of the scared young boy he was. The kid was too young to control his gameface and Angel felt disgust at this pathetic creature.

Willow looked sad, gently stroking the boy’s hair and wiping away his tears, ignoring his question. She stood up, the boy watching morosely as she turned to leave.

Angel hid in the shadows, hearing her pause beside the doorway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Xander.”

The boy sniffed and then called after her: “Tell him I’m better... tell him I’ll be good, for him, for you both. Please Willow... tell him I’m still me... please... we have to still be friends.”

But Willow had already left and didn’t hear him.


	2. Chapter 2

Hearing Willow leave the mansion Angel entered the small room, waiting for the fledges reaction to him. He didn’t have to wait long, the fledge... Xander, quickly raised his eyes, yellow bleeding into them as he appraised the tall vampire who was obviously a threat to him. Then again a little old lady with a pointy walking stick would pose a threat to him seeing as he was chained to a wall and judging by his colour, extremely malnourished. 

Angel grinned at the terrified boy, Angelus crowing in his head at the creature’s submission before he truly got a scent of the trembling youth. Going into gameface Angel lunged forward and seized the terrified creature by the neck, who pitifully whimpered as he was lifted into the air and shaken, feet dangling as he twitched and tried to free himself. 

“You smell like Darla, boy. Are you trying to betray the Slayer to the Master by making friends with the little redhead? Does your sire know where you are?”

The boy frantically shook his head, gently snuffling in panic. His eyes widened as Angel leaned in closer, his mouth near the boy’s ear, cool air hitting his cheek in a deceitfully gentle manner. Xander whimpered as Angel tightened his fingers around the boy’s neck, whispering to the boy. “Does your sire even give a damn where you are?”

Angel dropped the boy onto the ground, impassively watching as he hit the stony floor with a loud thump, keeping his head down, submitting, Angel realised and he smirked in satisfaction. The demon in his head felt closer to the surface than ever before and he started, realising he was losing control. His fangs itched and he yearned to bite into someone... to taste that warm blood leaving his victims veins and flowing into his mouth sweet and gloriously bitter at the same time...

He had to hurry this up, get the fledge to tell him what he knew about the slayer and then relay the information to Buffy, to do with it what she will. He didn’t think that the boy posed any real harm to her however he smelt like Darla and the smell of his sire was always one Angel associated with danger. If she was somehow plotting against Buffy, and Angel realised that this was very likely the case, he didn’t know what he would do.

“Come on boy, what are doing here? And what are you doing with Willow? Are you planning anything against the Slayer?”

His head still down Xander responded, voice low as he trembled at Angel’s feet.

“I don’t want to hurt Buffy, I promise. I’m their friend, I like Buffy and Willow and Jesse.” His voice broke as he whispered the last name, frail body twitching as he gazed up into Angel’s amber eyes and then quickly lowered his head again.

“One last time boy. How do you know the slayer and her friends?” Angel growled in frustration and the kid quickly responded, his words hurried and timid, like startled rabbits.

“I went to school with Willow and Jesse. People used to call us The Three Musketeers because we were so close. Then Buffy came along and I overheard her talking to the new librarian, Mr Giles. I thought they were insane, or that they were playing tricks on me for listening in. I mean they were talking about fairy tales, about vampires and demons and other strange creatures that butted horns in the night and so I joked about it with Jesse and everything was good. We hung out at his house and watched an episode of Babylon 5 and ate pizza and then it all came true... everything. I thought that they were all just fairy tales but now I’m living in one of these stories and I’m... I’m the monster. And Jesse doesn’t want to see me anymore and Buffy wants to kill me and it’s only a matter of time before Willow tells them she knows where I am because she was always bad at keeping secrets.”

Xander wiped furiously at his face, smearing the copper tears that ran down his face. Angel couldn’t recall Buffy ever talking about this kid and Jesse spent all his time lusting after Buffy to ever mention the death of his friend. Angel wondered if Xander realised that all his friends had forgotten about him. Or perhaps not forgotten about him but they certainly never mentioned his name. It was like life had gone on without Xander and he had been left behind, constantly hoping that things would revert back to the way they were but logically realising how impossible that was.

Angel turned around to leave. He had all the information he needed and it wasn’t his problem if the fledge starved out the rest of its existence chained to this wall. He had reached the door, hand on the cold metal handle when he smelt the musty smell of fear in the room increase just before he heard Xander’s quietly whispered question.

“Are you going to come back?” the boy sniffed, but Angel didn’t turn around to face him.

“No I’m not.” Angel opened the door and walked out.


	3. Chapter 3

Angel leaned against the partly collapsed fountain in the courtyard of the run-down mansion. The sky was dark and filled with angry clouds, the darkness occasionally being broken by lightning bolts that lit up the night in bursts of light. 

Every night for the last week his feet had dragged him here, hopelessly furious with himself every time he couldn’t find the strength to avoid the temptation of this accursed place. Watching Xander had become an obsession, a pull so strong he seemed compulsively unable to stay away. He yearned to dominate the pathetic creature inside, to break him down and rebuild him till he was unrecognisable. It was thoughts like these, the insistent urging of his furious demon, caged within its own body and slowly reaching a point of madness, that terrified Angel.

The fledge was too young to sense when he was being watched and Angel was fascinated as he watched the boy’s daily routine, or what passed for one anyway. The way Xander amused himself daily as he whittled away the days in between Willow’s sparse visits. And speaking of the little redhead Angel had paid her a visit. Had managed to shock the watcher and make Buffy angry, her cheeks flushed as her small fingers tightened over the stake she usually fiddles with during meetings. Only Willow had remained silent, teardrops glistening down lightly freckled skin as she sat timid on the cold steps of the library, hands occasionally twitching in her lap.

Angel had arrived in the middle of one of the group meetings that the gang conducted in the library, just before Buffy was preparing to head out for patrol. Her smile at his arrival had warmed his soul; when was the last time anyone had looked at him with such longing in their eyes and with such happiness merely at his presence? He ignored the unhappy rumbling from his demon that supplied the memory of his dear William looking at him with such delight and longing whenever he came home and Drusilla, his insane but beloved childe whose eyes glittered with a mad passion every time she saw her “daddy.” 

Buffy’s smile soon faded when he announced the reason for his visit, scowl darkening her features with the first mention of the boy’s name. Angel recounted what he had learned from Xander and of the his situation, the relatively harmless state of the fledge and how he was eager to see them all, leaving out the part about how Willow had been feeding and caring for the unhappy boy. His eyes had been focused on Jesse while he told his story, the kids dark features marred with anger and occasionally disgust as he quietly listened to Angel’s speech. The boy had always hated him, both for being a vampire and a creature of the night, something that Angel now suspected was connected to his issues with Xander, and for attracting the attention of Buffy, who Jesse lusted after but who ignored Jesse in the place of Angel. 

It was only when Angel finished talking that Jesse stood up, tall shoulders trembling with anger as he glared the vampire straight in the eye, spitting with rage as he defiantly glared into the eyes of a creature that had slaughtered the village in which he was raised and looked his younger sister in the eyes as he twisted her neck. “Don’t you dare call that thing Xander. You’re talking about a monster wearing my best friend’s face, a disgusting imitation of a boy we all cared about and loved. So if you think that I should have sympathy and befriend that thing then you’re stupider than I first thought.” With those angry words the boy had stormed from the library, Willow’s quite sobs breaking the oppressive silence that descended upon the group as the door banged shut with an eerie sense of finality.

Buffy finally broke the silence, face grim as she sealed Xander’s fate with one final sweeping blow. “He’s just a vampire. He doesn’t have a soul and he’s a threat to all of us.” Turning to face Willow she softened her voice as she looked upon the face of her grieving friend. “The boy you knew, the friend you grew up with, is gone Willow. I’m sorry but there’s nothing any of us can do to bring him back and this creature wearing his body as a disguise, it’s not him. I’m sorry.”

With one parting look at Angel Buffy seized her weapons bag, shoved in the stake she had been twirling in her hands and followed Jesse out the door. Willow had sniffled and then buried her head in her arms, sobbing as Giles polished his glasses, unsure of how to deal with a distraught teenager. In the face of this mess Angel had walked off. 

Watching the fledge as he tried to keep himself occupied proved entertaining, if not tragic, and Angel felt himself drawn to the boy in a way that the previous master of obsession had not felt since he had been given a soul. The boy had obviously once been talkative for now he spoke to himself to try and fill the long and hopelessly oppressive silence. He talked a great deal, indulging in the pretense that he was holding a conversation with another; the boy sharpening his wit on every object in the room. He hummed melodies that were popular among teenagers of this current age, or so Buffy had told him, and he staged battles between various superheroes, loudly contemplating who would win if it came down to a fight between Superman and Batman and other such figures. There was something about the boy that attracted both his demon and his soul and Angel felt himself slip further and further under the boy’s charm.

Pulling himself up from his slouch against the stony fountain Angel reached a decision. Walking through the entrance of the mansion he entered the room in which Xander was chained, the boy’s soliloquy abruptly halting as the tall vampire entered the room.

“I’m taking you home with me, boy. Get you cleaned up and fed and then I’ll figure out what to do with you.”

The vampire twitched away from him as Angel leaned down to break the rusty chain keeping the boy trapped against the stony wall. Large brown eyes gazed up at him in fright as the grubby fledge flinched away from Angel, lanky frame gently trembling in fear. Angel stepped away in what he hoped was a placating manner, giving the boy some personal space as he played his trump card.

“I have a shower with hot water and plenty of soap. How would you like to get clean?”

He smiled as this time Xander didn’t move away when Angel approached and didn’t flinch when the older vampire broke the metal chains. Picking himself gingerly off the ground the boy quickly collected his things, body shacking with a nervous energy as he kept his head submissively lowered.

Angel turned around and exited the mansion, not looking back to see if the boy would follow. He didn’t need to turn around to know that he was.


	4. Chapter 4

The walk back to Angel’s apartment was silent, surprisingly so for a boy of Xander’s age. Angel thought of the constantly babbling Willow or Jesse, who was full of awkward jokes and could talk a mile a minute and Angel wondered just how damaged Xander really was. The kid had been sired recently; Angel could still smell the taint of death surrounding the boy and he thought of his own early years as a vampire. He had revelled in his newfound strength, in the changes that had occurred to his body, fascinated by the prospect of eternity. He remembered boasting to Darla that he could hear the worms in the earth, and he remembered her tinkling laughter, deceptively sweet for such a monster, before she took his hand and followed him back to his home, smiling as she watched him cut a bloody swath through his village.

Willow really had starved the boy, unintentionally, but none the less unhealthy for a vampire so young. Vampires that were fed poorly in the first few weeks following their turning suffered serious, often permanent, consequences to their mental or emotional stability. Angel remembered the Master starving fledges to use for cannon-fodder, making them more vicious and bloodthirsty than usual. Most vampires retained at least a resemblance to their prior selves, Angel remembering his own hedonistic mortality; his love of women and his sadistic rapture every time he caused pain, desires which he had indulged as Liam and to a much greater extent as Angelus. Angel was left to wonder if the boy had been damaged while being starved. 

Xander was quiet, and meek, almost passive as he followed the older vampire without any remarks. His head bent down, shoulders hunched, he made for a pretty picture on submission. He seemed truly surprised when Angel invited him into his apartment, as though he had been prepared for Angel to bring him all the way here and then cruelly shut the door in his face. Angel imagined that alive and undead, Xander wasn’t used to such simple kindness. His shy smile and almost reverent glance when Angel heated up a packet of blood and poured it into a cup for him made Angel’s insides clench and he suddenly felt the desire to give Xander a reason to smile properly. Squashing the sudden outburst of soppy feelings he cleared his throat and sat the boy down on the couch; exhaustion making the kid sway on his feet.

“Drink up and if you’re still hungry there’s plenty more blood in the fridge.”

Xander clutched the warm cup in his hands, savouring the heat with a small smile on his face before slowly raising it to his lips and taking a giant gulp, some colour immediately returning to his pallid cheeks. Angel watched as his adams apple pressed against the skin of his pale throat, moving as his neck tilted back and he swallowed the blood. He felt his demon rattle at its cages, angry and frustrated and so desperate to take control of his body and teach Xander how to properly submit. He could picture how pretty the boy would look spread naked on his bed, pale skin contrasting with black sheets and blood seeping through the wounds Angelus would bestow on the young demon. He could see the boy twitching at each whiplash and crying as he was left chained for days to bleed onto the floors before being released and gratefully licking his own blood up from the dust.

Irrationally angry at the boy for the feelings he elicited in his demon, Angel went to the fridge and heated another cup of blood, passing it to the fledge and growling slightly as the boy twitched away from the sudden movement. His demon yelled in his head, constantly fighting him on every action he took and Angel was so tempted to just reach out and grab the kid by the lapel of his shirt, pulling him up from the couch and making him hurt. Everything he had worked for, his redemption; he could feel it slipping through his fingers like sand and he tried to take no notice of his demon, doing his best to ignore the stalemate he had reached with the unhappy creature.

He wanted to see Buffy again, to witness his light and joy and to get away from the emotions that he had not expressed since he had gotten his soul. Xander, somehow, made his demon feel closer to the surface, made him more reluctant to hide his demonic side. He pictured Buffy’s smile whenever she saw him, her golden, feminine beauty and realised something about had to be done about the boy. The question now was, what?

Angel rummaged through one of his rarely used cupboards, finally finding a dusty blanket that Angel suspected the previous owner had forgotten or abandoned when he had moved away. He threw it at the boy, taking savage pleasure in his look of distress and the flinch he gave as he almost spilt blood onto Angel’s couch, before turning off the lights, uncaring that the boy was not finished drinking his blood. He turned around, in gameface and with golden eyes glowing, seeing Xander’s frightened face in the dark as easily as he could if it was light. It felt so good, liberating almost, to show his gameface and he growled in enjoyment before glaring down at the fledge.

“Remember boy. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you yet but you’d better stay on my good side. I’m not little Willow and I won’t hesitate to stake you if you irritate me.”

He could hear the boy quietly sniffling as he turned around and climbed into his own bed, leaving Xander alone on the couch with only a worn blanket for company. Angel smiled through his fangs as he replayed the boy’s distressed face over and over again in his mind.

If Angel could see himself he would have been scared at how much he looked like Angelus. Instead he closed his eyes and went to sleep, a sleep with no dreams or memories of his past and more restful than he had had in a long time.


	5. Chapter 5

Xander rummaged through Angel’s bookshelf, occasionally selecting a book, glancing it over and putting it back in its place with a shudder of disgust. Xander had never been much of a reader when he had been alive and death hadn’t cured him of his dislike of anything that wasn’t a short, easy read, preferably with pictures. He’d exhausted his small collection of comics a few days ago, re-reading some favourites but soon tiring of it and his searching of Angel’s bookshelf provided much needed entertainment.

Putting back a dusty novel titled ‘Creolization in the America’s,’ the blurb alone giving Xander a headache; and what on earth was creolization anyway, Xander really wished that he could pack his belongings and get the hell out of dodge before Angel came home. He was no longer chained like a savage dog, he could escape now and be long gone before Angel would even notice he was missing.

He was a vampire, damn it!

He remembered when he had first arose, head clearer than it had been for years, senses alert, a burning fire in his belly and a need to attack, to hunt and kill and feast.

_“So he’s finally awake,” someone whispered with a voice that sounded like family and home. Xander smiled up at the gorgeous vision before his eyes, of a blonde demon that smelled like everything wonderful that he had ever known or wished to know._

_“Sire.” The word came unbidden to his lips, instantly familiar to his tongue and slurred between sharp new fangs. He grinned up at the woman and expected praise, a caress or something to satisfy the feeling of devotion that brewed beneath his flesh. However, he was met with cool disregard, a familiar feeling from beyond the grave that hurt and burned in the most familiar of ways and brought up memories of fists and a smell of alcohol, of all encompassing terror and the feeling of never, ever being good enough._

_“Here, eat boy,” the woman dragged forward a young brunette girl who had been thrown into a corner of the tunnels in which they stood. “Drink up and then later I’ve got a special job for you.”_

_Xander had obeyed her unquestioningly, blood spurting into his mouth as his fangs pierced the girls neck. The world was open to him, every possibility, every dream now available to him for the taking and he smiled, lips tinged red as the bloodless body dropped to his feet._

_He was going to take the world by storm!_

It had been hours later, after he had chased Buffy and Willow down the dark tunnels and then crawled, disgraced, back to his sire, that Xander had begun to feel the first tendrils of guilt for the girl’s death. Following the disaster of the Harvest festival; Buffy wrecking havoc on the Master’s plans, his sire had abandoned him in her escape and Xander realised that he could not bear to be left alone. 

He had walked through the streets of Sunnydale, miserable, hungry and alone when he saw Willow walking back from the Harvest and just seeing her brought back all the feelings of family and safety that his best friend had always previously evoked.

Willow had taken him back to an abandoned mansion on the outskirts of Sunnydale, chaining him up to keep him from feeding off the Sunnydale population and in return bringing him blood and friendship and company. Now the closest he got to Willow was her and Jesse’s scents that lingered on Angel as he returned to his apartment each night. 

Despite the temptation to leave the apartment, to escape and hunt and feed he knew that he would lose Willow forever and that pain was greater than any other desire. That and the fact that if he wouldn’t kill again, if he proved himself to be the same Xander they remembered, then Jesse would come back to him too. Angel would allow Willow to visit him as she had in the mansion and eventually Jesse would realise that he was good now, reformed and just the same Xander he had grown up with, and then he would have his family again.

*****

While the sun was still up and after they both had slept Xander usually amused himself with watching Angel exercise, muscles flexing as he stretched. Xander enviously watched, wanting to try some of the moves himself and often doing exactly that when Angel wasn’t home. However, his movements were neither graceful nor fluid, he knew that he was performing most of the moves wrong and he wished that Angel would show him how they were done.

Thinking of Angel exercising meant thinking of Angel’s body, his shirt casually tossed over the couch and his chest bared, grey pants riding low on his hips. There were times when Xander felt his body reacting to the sight, however, this always lead to embarrassment and the terror of Angel smelling his excitement quickly eliminated any erection Xander may have had. He had known he was bisexual for years now but he knew that acting upon his desire would always be a fantasy rather than a reality. Memories of his father’s warnings about homosexuality and being as Tony liked to call it, a good for nothing fairy, still terrified him. It brought back memories of the stench of alcohol on his father’s breath and spittle hitting Xander’s face as he was shaken, beefy fists clenching the collar of his shirt and making it hard for Xander to breath. Tony’s warning had effectively banished any further contemplation on Xander’s part, quashing any thoughts of carrying out any of his desires.

“I haven’t raised you to grow up to be a faggot, boy,” Tony had yelled, his breath hot and rancid against Xander’s face. “If I find out you’re a fairy and taking it up the arse I’ll kill you, you hear me?”

The great thing about Angel, as far as Xander was concerned, was that he didn’t drink. No matter how much he reminded Xander of his father he had never seen Angel pick up anything alcoholic. Xander knew the extent of the violence that brewed under his father’s skin, had felt it in the form of fists and belts and any other items convenient, and it was alcohol that kept the violence going, that flamed it and allowed Tony to expose it. Xander was terrified of his father for that very reason, and yet it was Angel who terrified him more. The promise of violence, of pain and blood burned under both Angel’s and his father’s skin, however, Angel hid his under the veil of his soul, of reformation.

It was Angel Xander was terrified of because one day the fountain of anger and bloodlust and sheet hate would inevitably burst forth and when it did it would paint Sunnydale red. And Xander would be caught right in the middle of it all.


	6. Chapter 6

Xander’s eyes were closed as he lay still on Angel’s rickety couch, smile on his lips as he remembered watching ‘Jaws’ with Willow and Jesse, Willow hiding her face in the pillows that lay strewn all over the floor and humming loudly as the gigantic Great White emerged from pink tinged water. Xander was so deeply immersed in his memories that he didn’t hear Angel coming home until he felt an uncomfortable prickling sensation running down his back, the unpleasant awareness that he was being watched.

Xander opened his eyes and then quickly lowered them when accosted by burning amber eyes staring down at him, simmering rage evident in the inhuman glare. Angel turned away when Xander opened his eyes and started pacing the room in long, angry strides, muttering fretfully to himself.

“He gave her a pocket-watch. A cheap metal pocket-watch and Buffy was impressed with it. He’s just a little boy playing at being a grown up, reading Dickinson and trying so desperately to please. So why is it working on her?” Xander held his breath as Angel mumbled, terrified of making any movement that would give Angel a target to take his anger out on. “I was known as the Scourge of Europe when Emily Dickinson was still in diapers and yet Buffy swoons over that pathetic little kid. If she could only smell him when she’s near him, the stench of his arousal when she danced with him and kissed him. It’s disgusting.”

Xander had never been one to learn when to keep his mouth shut, a habit his teachers had constantly complained about and one his father had tried screaming and beating out of him. So, before he could stop himself or at least give it some thought, Xander curiously looked up at Angel and cleared his throat.

“Are you talking about Owen?”

Angel directed a baleful glare at Xander, amber eyes unblinking as he growled. 

“What do you know about Owen?”

“Not much other than he was always the silent, handsome type according to the girls. He reads poetry during lunchtime or just sits there and broods and acts all mysterious. Willow used to whisper that she heard rumours that he could brood for forty minutes straight.”

Angel resumed his pacing, muttering savagely under his breath. “She’s supposed to be mine. My redemption and he’s taking her from me.”

It was moments like these that Xander wished he had some form of brain to mouth filter because he had never really learned to think before he spoke. 

“Have you asked her if this is what she wants? Or do you think that something like you is what she deserves? A boyfriend whose hundreds of years older than her, who can never take her into the sunlight and go on dates during the day and whose soul is constantly battling with his demon for control and seems to be losing...”

Xander never had a chance to finish his sentence as large hands, crushing and bruising as they gripped him by the neck and pulled him viciously into the air, tightening around his throat. 

“Don’t you dare speak to me in that way,” Angel shook Xander as a predator might shake its prey before ripping it apart. “You’re nothing; not a human but not a real vampire either so don’t you dare tell me that she doesn’t deserve me. That she won’t want me.”

He let go of Xander and watched as the boy collapsed in a heap, crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. Xander didn’t move but Angel could still hear the boy’s quiet, determined voice as he stubbornly murmured.

“I’m not nothing. I have friends who care about me whilst everyone you ever knew or loved is dead.”

Snarling, Angel grabbed the impudent fledge, throwing him against the nearest wall and taking pleasure in Xander’s cry of pain as he hit the wall hard and slid down, paint chips showering over his head like snowflakes as he curled up in a crumpled heap where he had fallen. 

“You really are stupid, aren’t you, boy? They’ve all forgotten about you; even little Willow doesn’t bring your name up any more. You’re dead and gone to them little boy. The only difference is, if your body was in the ground they’d still talk about you, remember you and mourn for you. This way, it’s like you never existed. And Jesse, your ‘best bud,’” Angel mocked, voice lowering as he went in for the kill, “Jesse’s too busy sniffing after Buffy to think about you at all. They don’t want you and they certainly don’t want to remember you. Least of all Jesse.”

Angel grabbed his coat and stormed off, door loudly banging shut behind him. As the stomping of footsteps dulled Xander quietly whispered to himself, arms curled around his trembling body to protect his aching ribs and red-tinged tears slowly making their way down his cheeks.

“He’s wrong... he’s... he’s lying. Jesse promised me... he promised that we’ll always be there for each other,” he mumbled, lips quivering. “He promised and Jesse always keeps his promises.”

Xander rested his head against the floor, his arms muffling the sound of sobbing. He’d go see Jesse, go find his best friend and talk to him. He’d prove Angel wrong.


	7. Chapter 7

The night was cold, the wind violent as it swept up everything in its frenzied path. Xander could feel a storm brewing, almost instinctively, and he shuddered, quickening his pace as the wind howled.

Xander had snuck out of the apartment a few hours after sunset, terrified that he would bump into Angel as he raced towards Jesse’s house. Xander presumed Angel was off patrolling with Buffy, or rather following her around like a lovesick puppy, however, fear crawled up his spine as he imagined Angel’s reaction to him outside, surrounded by humans. He had to find Jesse though, his best friend. Xander knew that Jesse would make everything about this nightmare better, that he would accept him no matter what anyone else told him. 

Xander knew that Angel was lying. It simply wasn’t possible that Jesse could have forgotten so many years of friendship and promises shared between them. Once Jesse saw him, talked to him, he would understand that Xander wouldn’t mean him harm, he would see through the demon and realise that Xander was still the same as ever, that they were still friends and that everything between them was going to be okay.

The wind picked up again, howling past him and bringing with it a sense of foreboding. Xander shifted to gameface, taking a deep breath and scenting the air. Everything smelt wrong, the wind carrying with it a rancid smell of decay and age, of fur and sand and suddenly through the varying stimuli’s that assaulted his senses he smelt family and home and friendship. 

Jesse.

Xander broke out into a run, not paying attention to where he was heading but simply charging through bushes, leaping over fences and flinging aside branches as he raced towards his friend, leaves crackling under his feet as he ran. It was only as he passed familiar gates that he stopped in confusion, finally taking notice of where he was. The familiar, crooked plaque proudly welcomed one and all to ‘Sunnydale Zoo,’ a place that was familiar to all Sunnydale High students who were dragged here every year to gaze upon the same caged animals and more importantly, to relish a day where studying was ignored in favour of basking in the sun for an afternoon supposedly in the name of education.

Xander ran past the animals, their different smells hitting his amplified new senses and making him gag. He followed Jesse’s familiar scent until he reached a taped off enclosure, the Hyena House the sign read, and quickly made his way inside. Xander paused when he noticed Buffy and Jesse fighting a zookeeper, the man’s face distorted with terrifying tribal patterns as his eyes glowed a bright green in the dim light. 

Xander suddenly found himself pushed aside into a corner of the dimly lit room as a group of terrified teenagers, Xander recognised them as Kyle and his band of goons, fled the room in panic. Xander’s eyes widened as he smelt blood on them along with the familiar smell of Principle Flutie.

Camouflaging in with the foliage was simple, none of the others noticing his presence as they battled against the enraged zookeeper whose strength seemed phenomenal for such a average looking, middle-aged man. Finally Buffy managed to overpower him and toss his flailing body over the edge of the railing, straight into the hyena enclosure from which soon came the sound of feasting, of flesh tearing off bone as screams rendered the air and then quickly fell silent.

Buffy dusted herself off and raced towards Willow, concern evident on her face as she helped her friend up and then checked her for injuries. Jesse was helping Giles get to his feet, the Watcher leaning heavily against him as blood gently trickling from where the zookeeper had attacked him. The motley crew slowly made their way out of the enclosure, injured and exhausted and all of them eager to return home and rest.

Xander remained hidden in the foliage, waiting for their footsteps to dim so that he could catch Jesse in private. As he turned to leave Xander took one final look at the enclosure, the smell of human blood achingly, tantalisingly near. One of the hyena’s, a large, powerful female, caught his eye as she climbed out from behind the rocks, blood matting her fur as she grinned up at him, teeth stained red. The smell of musty earth and old magic, as well as the tantalising scent of spilt blood, swept over Xander and he felt a hunger rising in him the likes of which he hadn’t felt since he was turned. The hyena’s eyes burned into him, scorching his mind and his body and Xander stepped closer as though drawn by some great magnetic force, before she suddenly disappeared, the sound of resumed feasting reaching his ears moments later.

Xander staggered out of the enclosure, wind whipping against his body as he curled in on himself, feeling pained and bewildered and incredibly shaken. Silence reigned and then Xander straightened his back, holding his head high and scenting the air.

Suddenly Xander morphed into gameface, fangs glimmering in the pale light of the moon. As he threw back his head and laughed his eyes glowed an eerie shade of green.


	8. Chapter 8

The world had stayed the same, however, Xander now looked at it through entirely different eyes. He could see worms crawling along the ground, burrowing into the earth, beetles racing through the grass, pincers clicking as their shells gleamed in the pale moonlight. He could hear a fight going on a few houses away, screaming adults and crying children grating on his nerves and sending a shiver racing down his spine. The scent of arousal hit his nostrils and he began to run, far away from the sound of grunting and moaning as two teenagers humped in a nearby alley, the sound making him edgy, wary with a nervous, hungry energy.

Wind whistled through his hair as he ran, racing through abandoned Sunnydale streets, his sneakers hitting the ground with loud thumps. Xander leapt over a stone fence and then crouched on all fours in the damp grass he had landed on, admiring the cemetery that his legs had carried him to. The earth here smelled like death and decay and he loved it, grinning and growling and then collapsing in the grass, rolling in the damp earth in a frenzy of newborn passion. Dirty and crumpled, hair clumped together with mud, he bayed in a manic frenzy, fangs gleaming as he laughed until exhausted.

Somehow Xander had always managed to keep his demon under control. He had woken in the tunnels of the Masters lair, at first disorientated and confused but slowly becoming aware of his resounding humanity; the bonds he had forged when he had been human still burning in his breast. He had been terrified of his newfound strengths and had been distraught upon his realisation that he had killed someone, that blood stained his hands and could never be erased. 

This time he had been reborn to utter awareness, the demon submissive and silent in his brain as the hyena primal asserted his claim over Xander’s body and mind. The hyena spirit was ancient, old as the desert plains of Africa and a deadly, dominant creature. He could sense her power, her great strength and her fury that she had been displaced from her home and brought to this land in a cage. She was the alpha hyena, the protector of her pack and she sensed and understood Xander’s loneliness, silently offering to ease his burden, to provide the family and protection he had been craving all his life.

However, Xander had always been the stubborn one and he still fought her, unwilling to simply surrender to the alpha like he had done all his life. He had always rolled over for the stronger person, always dependent on someone dominant and powerful who would take him in hand and yet someone who didn’t care for him at all, who used his submission to hurt and abuse rather than to protect. 

In his mind they circled each other, the hyena as desolate and abandoned as Xander and yet equally unwilling to submit. He could almost see her in his mind’s eye, growling unhappily at him and he glared back, feeling a lot like a small puppy trying to intimidate the pack alpha into submission.

“I’ve spent my life submitting to everyone around me; to my father, to teachers, to Angel and even to Willow and Jesse,” he supplied to her in his mind and she stared at him, deep green eyes unwavering as they regarded him with interest. “I can’t just give in to you that easily,” he whispered.

He expected rage, angry claws ripping and tearing at him until he broke. However, the hyena simply padded towards him, leaning her head against his thighs in comfort and allowing him to rub a hand over smooth fur and sharp ears. Tears gathered in his eyes at her unexpected gentleness.

The hyena growled low in her throat, a comforting noise as if she was soothing her young. “Pack,” the word tumbled through Xander’s mind and he smiled, feeling safe and cared for, the demon in his head rumbling in content agreement.

“Family,” he whispered back, voice low and gentle as he continued petting her fur. “I submit.” 

Inside his head the hyena laughed, a low barking sound, full of joy.

“Pack.” The word echoed in the breeze and then quietly tapered off.

Walking back to Angel’s was an exercise in control. Every smell was new and distracting, every sound causing his ears to prick up and arousing his interest. He passed two teenagers, a young boy and girl who had obviously come from the movie theatres; smelling of buttery popcorn and the musty scent that clung to the old movie seats. They both stared at him, eyes wide with curiosity and fear and Xander breathed in their heady scent with a languid smile.

“Look at that freak, Jeannie,” the boy remarked to his girlfriend as they walked, lips curled up in a mocking grin.

“Will, leave him alone. Let’s hurry up and get home,” Jeannie murmured, hands gently shaking as she hurried her pace, giving Xander a wide berth as they passed him.

The boy looked over his shoulder one more time at Xander and that was enough. Xander morphed into gameface, eyes glowing green as he laughed the hyena’s peculiar, eerie laugh, watching in amusement as the teenager shrieked and almost fell over himself in terror before pulling his girlfriend by the arm and running away.

The apartment was quiet when Xander entered. For the first time since he had moved in with Angel he opened the fridge door and rummaged through it, grabbing several packets of blood. Angel had always been careful about setting the blood out for Xander himself, controlling his intake and ensuring that the fledge could only eat with Angel’s permission and under his supervision. 

Tonight Xander grabbed several packets of human blood, kept in the very back of the fridge in the situation that Angel was injured and needed them to heal, and savagely bit into them, not minding that it was cold or that he was splashing blood over his shirt. Three packets later and Xander was full, however, with the hunger eased his mind still raced.

The hyena had found her pack but she still sensed Xander’s residual loneliness, his happiness that he now belonged still overshadowed by the grief of loss. Glancing at the clock Xander noticed that he still had several hours till sunrise and smiled to himself, quickly throwing together a plan.

For the second time that evening Xander shrugged on a jacket and silently left the apartment. His feet traced a familiar path as once again he started the trek to Jesse’s.


	9. Chapter 9

The houses in Jesse’s neighbourhood had once been rundown and decrepit but years before Jesse’s family moved to Sunnydale the neighbourhood had been rebuilt, old buildings demolished to make way for houses straight out of a magazine detailing extravagantly priced promises of suburban bliss.

These same houses passed by in a monochromic blur as Xander jogged by them, chasing Jesse’s scent to the small house that had been more of a home to him than his own had ever been. Jesse’s parents, whilst in no way abusive, where as neglectful of their only child as Willow’s mother was. Even now as Xander approached the familiar neat front garden he could sense that they were once again absent, probably off on one of their endless business trips and completely ignoring the existence of their son.

Xander could hear two heartbeats in the house, both of which were achingly familiar to him. It had always been him alongside Jesse and Willow during nights like this, their parents away and him sleeping over at either Jesse or Willow’s houses, watching scary movies together and eating ice-cream straight out of the cartons, one spoon between all three of them. It seemed that with Xander’s turning the familiar ritual had carried on without him and the knowledge of that hurt more than he had imagined.

Standing under Jesse’s window and listening to the sounds of Jesse laughing with Willow made Xander wonder if Angel hadn’t been lying to him after all. What if they had moved on already? He missed Jesse and Willow terribly but what if they had let him go and he was the only one left hopelessly clinging onto the memory of reverting things back to the way they were?

Upon reaching the doorstep Xander paused for a moment, gathering strength and calming himself before quickly rapping on the front door. 

“Come in; the doors unlocked,” Jesse yelled from upstairs and Xander could hear Willow’s lecture even as he shook his own head at Jesse’s stupidity. 

“Jesse, you don’t know that that’s the pizza guy. It could be anyone and you remember what Mr Giles said, a vampire can only enter a house if you invite them in,” Willow lectured as they raced down the stairs. Xander smiled to himself; this was the Willow he was friends with. Jesse and Xander had always had the survival instincts of drunken lemmings, doing something first and thinking it over later, if ever, but Willow had always been the smart, careful one of the group, keeping them out of the more serious kinds of trouble.

“Willow, come on, what’s the chance a vampire is going to come knocking on my...” Jesse’s sentence trailed off as they both reached the landing and he finally took a good look at who he had let into his home. “Xander,” Jesse exclaimed, the word coming out as a whisper which was then quickly swallowed up by the silence that followed.

Willow reacted first, sweet dependable Willow, looking nervously over her shoulder at Jesse before walking up to Xander and pulling him into a hug. Xander put his arms around her small body and squeezed her gently to his chest; Willow’s familiar warmth flooding through his body and pacifying the hyena spirit within him, who purred contently as feelings of family and security flooded through him. Willow’s embrace somewhat helped fill the hole deep inside him but it was Jesse who would help fill it completely. Jesse would make him whole. However, Jesse stood frozen in place at the bottom of the stairs, fingers clenched tight into fists by his side.

The silence was broken as Jesse seemed to spur into movement, hand quickly slipping into his pocket and grabbing a small vial that Xander could instinctively feel contained holy water. Voice low and tense Jesse said his first words to Xander in weeks. 

“Let go of Willow right now and get out of my house.”

Willow tensed and released her arms from around his waist, eyes wide as she turned to face Jesse. Her small body stood protectively in front of Xander as she spoke. 

“Jesse, wait. Give him a chance. He’s still our Xander.”

Jesse sneered and the disgust in his eyes ripped and tore at Xander, pain blossoming in his chest, where his heart had, not too long ago, once beaten. 

“Xander’s dead, Willow. This thing isn’t our friend, it’s not even a person. It’s an animal in our friend’s skin, a monster wearing Xander’s face and I never want to see it again.” 

The hyena inside him howled in fury, but the sound was muffled, distant, and a strange roaring sounded in his ears, blocking out the argument that had started between the two people he had loved more than anything else in his entire life. So this was it, the end of the road for him.

Angel hadn’t been lying to him. Jesse truly hated him and even Willow’s tentative attempts to restore their friendship, to treat him as she would normally, couldn’t make things right.

The hyena’s howls grew louder, overpowering the white noise that buzzed relentlessly in his ears and then Willow tensed and moved away from him, the smell of fear rank in the small living room. He realised belatedly that he was growling out loud now but Xander felt disconnected from his body, in the backseat and far away from the controls; lost in a haze of misery and loneliness.

His mouth moved without his consent, forming words that were too muffled and quiet for him to hear and understand. The hyena had taken control of his body and Xander found that he couldn’t sum up the effort to care. He curled up into a corner of his mind and ignored what the hyena was doing with his body, the words coming out of his own mouth. There was nothing left for him anyway.


	10. Chapter 10

The boy had promised her family, a pack, and now he had disappeared into his own mind and left her alone. She had though he would be different, stronger than the others she had possessed. She had been pleasantly surprised when she first encountered resistance from him, an unwillingness to blindly submit but a burning desire to follow her as a second in command, a treasured advisor and friend. Part of the pack.

The hyena could feel the demon inside the boy growing steadily more agitated; angry at Xander’s disappearance and terrified that it had been left alone. The hyena sent reassuring messages to the demon, reminding it of promises of family, of pack, but the demon was barely placated, bloodlust and anger pouring off it in waves. Without Xander’s consciousness to control it, the demon craved blood and destruction and the hyena yearned to make those who had hurt the boy, the friends who had abandoned him, pay.

Eyes glowing green she turned to face the children that were angrily whispering to themselves. She was the alpha, the leader of the pack and she wanted blood. And she always got what she wanted.

 

**Jesse’s POV-**

He had met Xander on the first day of school when the teacher had asked for everyone to get into groups and Jesse had been the odd one out. Xander had gone up to him, shaggy brown hair falling into his eyes as he introduced himself and then took him back to their corner of the room where he had been introduced to Willow, the little redhead busily organising the toys their group had been given into three separate piles, one for each of them. That had been the start of a friendship that they had promised would last forever, just like the Three Musketeers: “all for one and one for all.”

Jesse had been distraught with the news of Xander’s turning, unable to accept that his best friend could not be saved. He had approached Mr. Giles with the news, desperately hoping for the Watcher to inform him of some way to save Xander, positive that just because he was now a vampire did not mean that his best friend was gone for good. But Mr. Giles had assured him that vampires were nothing more than vicious, violent animals who did not care about the friendships they had made when they were human, caring only for the blood of innocents. Mr. Giles had assured him that his childhood friend was dead and that the vampire who looked like Xander was not him and Buffy had testified this fact.

So he made peace with Xander’s death and time had passed with no sign of Xander ever returning. To see his friend standing in his living room, hugging Willow and looking for all the world as though everything was the same as it always had been hurt more than he could possibly imagine. The vampire was mocking them, rubbing their faces in Xander’s death and Jesse realised that the _thing_ in front of them was just like the monsters they killed every night. It seemed that Willow, though, could not agree with him about on that.

“He’s still Xander, Jesse, he’s still our friend. He’s been nothing but nice since he came to me and he even agreed to be chained up so that he could win your trust and respect. Inside he’s still the same as he’s always been, Jesse,” Willow whispered angrily.

“Stop it, Willow. The Xander we knew is dead.”

 “If you had been the one who was kidnapped and turned do you think that Xander would give up on you like this? You know he wouldn’t so why are you giving up on him?”

“You just want to play nice with him because he still looks like Xander. That thing would go for anything with legs, Willow, so if you think that acting like he’s Xander means that he’s going to _finally_ going to get into your pants...”

He never got the chance to finish his sentence as Willow’s slap came flying out of nowhere, the loud clap reverberating through the quiet house and a sharp pain blossoming in his cheek. Willow’s face was flushed in anger, her arm still raised, and she stared at him like she had never seen him before.

Before she could open her mouth a soft growl came from where Xander stood. They swung their heads around and stared at their friend, eyes widening as they took in the changes in him. The Xander Jesse knew always slumped, as though constantly expecting to be hit, and his eyes were always soft and shy. The Xander before them stood tall and proud, glaring at him with feral green eyes and a smirk on his lips.

“I can understand why Xander wants you in the pack, little girl but’ a coward like you,” Xander rasped, voice harsh as he looked Jesse up and down, “doesn’t deserve our allegiance or respect; breaking loyalties based on opinions you haven’t even though through .”

“It’s the hyena spirit,” Willow whispered to him in horror, eyes wide with fear.

“That’s right, Willow. Xander’s not home at the moment because your friend made him hurt. He hurt a member of my pack.” Xander approached Jesse; the deceptively casual strut of a predator as it inches closer to its prey and Jesse slowly inched backwards.

 “I like it when you’re scared. The more I scare you the better you smell.” Xander smiled at him, an unfriendly smile that was all teeth and Jesse’s back hit the wall with a thump.

Xander came closer still, his body smaller that Jesse’s but containing a raw strength that effectively trapped him in place. One cool hand trailed slowly down Jesse’s cheek and Xander watched in delight as it left a trail of gooseflesh behind.

Behind them they heard Willow speaking, voice trembling as she spoke but the words were foreign to both of them, muffled as they eyed each other; trapped inside a bubble where only the two of them existed.

Jesse felt his heart racing as he stared into the inhuman eyes, realising he was staring his death in the face and expecting to be torn limb from limb. The hand that had been gently stroking his face trailed lower, down his neck, before the fingers fanned out and began to slowly squeeze.

Xander leaned his head closer, the same shaggy hair falling into his eyes like it had done on the first day of school, when Xander had shyly introduced himself. “You hurt my pack, Jesse, and I don’t forgive easily.”

As the hand tightened around his throat the front door flew open with a mighty crash and Angel stood at the threshold, in gameface and with eyes glowing yellow in fury.

“Invite me in,” he commanded, gaze focused on Jesse’s face as it began to turn a deep red. Xander turned towards the intrusion, not releasing his hold on Jesse’s neck as he shifted into gameface, his expression twisted into a snarl and his eyes glowing green.

“Come in,” Jesse croaked with a desperate breath and then there was silence.


	11. Chapter 11

Angel had spent that night patrolling with Buffy, watching her every movement out of the corner of his eye. Every childish quip she made while slaying was countered by her body language, the deceptive languid posture disguising the predator within. Buffy was as enamoured by him as he was by her; he could smell it every time she looked his way, blushing whenever she caught him watching her.

Angel had walked home in a content daze, barely thinking of the young fledge waiting for him at home. Xander had been oddly well behaved since Angel had taken him back to his apartment, strange so for a vampire so young. Angel thought back to the months following his turning, remembering the bloodlust, the creativity he had shown with each new death, his families bodies casually slumped through the house. Xander, on the other hand, hadn’t even protested when Angel dictated his feeding patterns, controlling how many packets of blood he was allowed and at what time he could have them. Angel had expected the fledge to at least kick up a fuss and had been surprised when the boy just looked at him in an expression that screamed of resignation before softly accepting his rules.

So when Angel had come home to a vacant house and several empty blood bags his good mood had vanished fast. Why did the kid have to pick now of all times to rebel? With an angry growl Angel followed the scent of the boy across town, the smell still strong and recent. As he approached a small middle-class street a few blocks from Buffy’s house, at least the boy wasn’t suicidal enough to have gone to Buffy’s, he finally realised where his feet were taking him. The perfectly trimmed hedges, the whitewashed fences, the freshly painted houses. Upon Buffy’s command he had once walked Jesse home through these same streets, listening to the brat ungratefully whine at the honour of being bestowed the protection of a Master Vampire. Angel recalled his words from a few weeks ago, when he had mocked Xander, flinging at him the knowledge that his best friend didn’t care about him any more. Ignoring the twinge of guilt he felt at these words Angel picked up the pace. He realised that the fledge had finally cracked and had gone to discover for himself whether or not Angel had been telling him the truth, something which could not end well. Angel reminded himself to congratulate Willow on her initiative in using chains to keep Xander in place. His methods of intimidation obviously did not work as well as he had thought.

The house was suspiciously quiet as he approached and for a horrific moment Angel found himself wondering if he was too late to save Jesse; imagining himself telling Buffy of Jesse’s death. However, as he approached the driveway he heard snippets of conversation, a whispered angry fight between Jesse and Willow. 

“If you had been... kidnapped and turned...think that Xander would give up on you... why are you giving up on him?”

“You just want to play nice... because he still looks like Xander. That thing would go for anything with legs... acting like he’s Xander means that he’s going to finally going to get into your pants...”

A sharp slap echoed through the house and Angel found himself smiling at the little redheads audacity. However, his smile abruptly vanished when he heard Xander speak up, his voice low but the menace in it clear. He approached to hear more when Xander’s next phrase drifted towards him.

“I like it when you’re scared. The more I scare you the better you smell.”

Startled into action Angel slipped into gameface and racing towards the front door, banging against it before giving it a mighty push, the door not withstanding his anger and crashing into the house. 

Willow was pressed against the wall, body trembling and face pale as she begged Xander to leave Jesse alone. The fledge stood with his back towards her, his body trapping Jesse against the wall and strong hands crushing the boy’s windpipe. Jesse’s face was a deep red, his body quivering as air was forced from his lungs.

“Invite me in,” Angel commanded, catching Jesse’s desperate gaze and only then did Xander spot him; turning towards him, in gameface, but his eyes glowing an eerie shade of green. As Jesse croaked an invite, Angel crossed the threshold and Xander let go of Jesse’s neck, the boy sliding down the wall and slumping into a heap, his heart beating a sluggish rhythm that reassured Angel.

Xander stared at him for a long appraising moment and Angel didn’t move, noticing the changes that had occurred in the boy. Standing before him was a man, a confident predator entirely different from the snivelling, meek creature that allowed a human girl to chain him up and was spooked by his own shadow. The emerald green eyes glowed as they observed him, cocky and insolent, however, Angel knew that despite these changes he was still the boy’s superior. He would knock the fledge into his proper place and enjoy doing it. This would almost be too easy.

With that thought and a quick smirk at the young vampire Angel leapt across the room, teeth bared in a parody of a smile. The force behind his movement would likely have broken the boy had he not rapidly darted aside, still in gameface as he caught hold of Angel’s propelling body and threw him into the living room, Angel hitting the far wall with a loud thump. He darted at Xander again, grabbing the fledge by his collar and twisting it to expose his neck, intending to bite down and assert his dominance. However, Xander twisted out of his grip and launched himself at the older vampire, attacking with a volley of kicks and punches before ducking down and resting lightly on his haunches, growling quietly.

Letting out an angry, inhuman roar Angel pounced at the fledge, kicking him viciously and grinning wildly as Xander hit the couch in the centre of the living room with a mighty thump. He grabbed a fistful of the boy’s shaggy brown hair and hauled Xander to his feet, shaking the fledge furiously before throwing him at the nearby wall, which he slowly slid down.

Xander slumped against the wall, his head down and his posture screaming of submission and making Angel smile. He approached the boy, a bit surprised that Xander had so much fight in him but overall pleased that he had managed to secure the upper hand so quickly. Nearing the boy, his victory assured, Angel was thus surprised when Xander leapt into action, jumping to his feet and eyes glowing green in rage. A fist flew through the air and propelled Angel backwards into the centre of the room; the force of the blow making him gasp. 

Xander circled around him, keenly assessing him, before launching into an unsophisticated but effective series of vicious jabs and blows. Angel struggled to parry the blows; two-hundred years of experience in all sorts of fights falling short at the sheer primal strength and dogged youthful determination of his attacker. Xander clawed and punched at him, teeth occasionally plunging into whatever body part he could reach. His sharp fangs sunk into Angel’s shoulders, into his arms and back, bringing with them a fiery pain as Xander shredded into him, teeth worrying bits of flesh and Angel felt cool rivulets of blood dampening his shirt and slowly trickling down his arms and back.

Finally succeeding in shoving the boy off him Angel growled in rage, pain radiating through his body and stirring up a bloodlust he had ignored for decades. He stared at Xander in surprise, the boy’s face splattered with blood and his lips and chin smeared red. Something equally primal inside Angel stirred at the sight but he crushed it down, mercilessly suppressing his desires. It was time to end this. Right now.

Xander leapt at him again but this time Angel was ready, throwing the fledge to the floor. He prepared to hurl himself at the boy, to finish him off once and for all when a small thin hand appeared out of nowhere, gently caressing Xander’s back where he lay face down on the carpeted floor. Angel was about to yell at Willow, warn her away, when Xander reacted, leaping lightly to his feet and twisting her arm painfully in his large hands until Willow squeaked in pain, trembling gently and eyes wet with fear as Xander’s grip steadily tightened.

Before Angel had the chance to react Xander suddenly fell to his knees at Willow’s feet, hands clutching his head in agony and whimpering in pain.

“You almost hurt Willow,” Xander whispered, face scrunched up in fear and desperation. “You almost hurt Willow...” His voice trailed off with a sob, head bowed in pain and sadness.

This time when Angel approached and hoisted the boy to his feet, pulling him roughly by the hair, Xander didn’t protest. And when Angel plunged his fangs into the boy’s neck Xander merely tilted his head in weary acceptance and remained silent.


	12. Chapter 12

Xander lay still at Angel’s feet, neck still sluggishly bleeding and soaking the collar of his shirt a dull crimson. He hadn’t moved since Angel had dropped him there; silent and motionless as Angel quietly spoke to Willow, questioning her about what had occurred before he had arrived. Jesse sat motionless on the bottom step of his staircase, not contributing to the conversation. He cradled his neck with slender fingers and occasionally glanced at Xander and then quickly his shifted his gaze back to his feet, stretched out in front of him.

It was amazing that after everything that had happened Willow still stood up for the fledge; despite vivid red fingerprints standing out against pale freckled skin, bruises already beginning to form. It was obvious that Xander felt guilty about it, even though Angel wasn’t sure how that was possible. Vampire’s couldn’t feel guilt, couldn’t feel love or understand the concept of family and home. They couldn’t understand anything except for hunger, except for the pleasure of glutting themselves on the blood of their victims. Yet Spike had understood love; had loved Dru and him and even his mother still had a place in his heart after he had been turned. And then there was Xander, lying at his feet and staring down at the carpet with pain filled brown eyes. Xander who was so different from any fledges Angel had ever known, who seemed to understand guilt and pain and love too.

Willow had also explained to him all about the hyena spirit and that was going to be a pain in the ass to deal with. He’d need Giles to remove the hyena possession and there was no way that Giles would allow the boy to live. A few weeks ago Angel had had no qualms about staking the fledge. Hell an hour ago he wouldn’t have had any problems staking Xander but now something inside him had changed. Tonight he had bitten Xander, tasted the boy’s blood for the very first time and Angel’s demon had roared in delight at the taste. Xander tasted like Darla, like Sire and family and home but also sweeter, gentler, purer than Darla had ever tasted. Xander felt like comfort to Angel, like peace and tranquillity, and both his demon and his soul had settled at the first taste of his sweet blood. To kill the boy now would feel like abandoning his childer; abandoning comfort and peace all over again and Angel knew that he couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t do it. 

Angel grabbed Xander by the back of his shirt and hauled him to his feet, pushing him towards the door. 

“Tell Buffy I’ll come by the library tomorrow,” Angel said to Willow who was staring at Xander with undisguised sadness. She shook her head, clearly startled out of her thoughts and was about to reply when another voice interrupted her.

“Don’t… just… don’t stake him, okay?” Jesse said, not moving from his seat on the stairs. His voice wavered and he stared at the floor when he spoke but Xander’s head shot up and his face brightened a little.

“Jesse,” Xander whispered, his eyes hopeful but Jesse’s expression hardened and he climbed to his feet.

“Get him out of here,” Jesse said and turned his back on them, walking into the kitchen without a backward glance.

~~~

The walk back to Angel’s apartment was quiet, Angel gripping Xander’s arm in case he tried to escape. He had seriously undermined the fledges strength before and that mistake was not going to happen again.

Opening the door to his apartment Angel roughly shoved Xander through it, locking the door behind them. Xander stumbled on his feet but then stood still, eyes down and making the very picture of submission. If Angel wasn’t still bleeding from the numerous bites Xander had inflicted on his back, arms and shoulders Angel may have believed him but any trust the fledge had earned by being well behaved was depleted. Walking up to the chest standing in one corner of his bedroom Angel opened its lid, blinking rapidly as years worth of dust was released into the air, having settled in a fine film over the contents inside. All sorts of crumpled papers lay piled on top of a variety of weapons, some with neatly drawn sketches and diagrams on the weaknesses of different demons and one that may have been a recipe for al dente were violently pushed to the side before Angel finally found what he was looking for; a set of iron manacles and chains that dangled in his arms as Angel locked the chest and got to his feet.

Xander minutely raised his head and watched him with brown fearful eyes as he approached with the chains in his grasp. He didn’t move or even blink when Angel attached a manacle to one delicate skinny wrist and then dragged him to a corner of his living room, throwing the other manacle up into the air and threading it over the rafters before attaching the other manacle to Xander’s wrist. The fledge just sat down onto the cool tiled floor of the apartment, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes. 

Thinking back to when he had first seen Xander, pale and chained to a wall like a rabid dog, Angel couldn’t help but think that they had come full circle. Except now something within Angel had changed, shifted and both soul and demon felt more connected, more at peace with each other. Nothing and yet everything had changed and all in the blink of an eye.


	13. Chapter 13

When Xander had become a teenager there were days when he thought he would never be full. No matter how much he ate his body filled out and grew and nothing he ate seemed to satisfy the hunger. He remembered Willow smacking him on the arm as he finished off his own huge lunch and then helped himself to hers; eating her leftovers and still not being able to fill the gaping pit inside of him that constantly burned in emptiness, aching for something to eat. While living with Angel Xander had been through plenty of those days as well. Plenty of days where the few packets of blood Angel gave him each day barely cut through the agony of being so hungry that he would do anything for some blood.

Thinking back on those days Xander realised that he had been spoiled. He was given something to eat then, something to quell the hunger that had been ever-present and constantly on his mind. Now, however, it seemed that Angel was angry at him, almost as furious as Xander was at himself for running off, for finding Jesse and Willow and confirming the truth of Angel’s words. Discovering that Angel hadn’t lied and that Jesse really had deserted him, that there was no one left who cared about him. 

Before he had run off living with Angel hadn’t been so terrible. Angel wasn’t home often, leaving Xander to roam around the apartment and amuse himself however he pleased and he was good-looking, doing stretches and poses shirtless for hours on end when he was home. True, he had controlled Xander’s blood intake, forbidding him to eat when he wasn’t home and making sure Xander ate only the packets he was expressly given but at least he had been fed and comfortable.

But he had made Angel angry, had rebelled and escaped and almost killed his only friends and Angel hadn’t fed him since that night, since he had helped himself to Angel’s blood supply and since Angel had drunk from him himself. It had only been three days but Xander was sure that if he wasn’t chained up he would be unable to walk by this stage. His muscles had weakened and his bones ached, agony convulsing through his body and his head spinning from dizziness, his vision greying around the edges. A desperate cramping has seized his gut, making him pant through his nose to try and stop the pain. Angel hadn’t even come home last night. Xander assumed he was probably with Buffy and he snorted gently at the thought; wondering if this was to be his punishment, chained up in Angel’s apartment till he rotted to death. At least he deserved it for what he had done to the only people he cared about.

At first he had licked off his own blood that had dried up on his hands and had suckled on his fingers, wetting them and then scratching off the blood that had caked on his neck, licking it off his fingertips. As a last resort he had taken to biting at his wrists, drinking down some of the blood that had flowed out and then bathing the bite clean with his tongue. At the beginning it had helped; the mere sight of blood and the action of drinking it down staving off the desperate edge to his hunger. Now nothing helped. 

Xander had never been a particularly good student but he had a good memory, a fact that would probably be surprising to most people who knew him. He remembered that he had once read a myth about a king named Tantalus, cursed with tormenting thirst and hunger but unable to reach the food and water that was just a hairbreadth out of reach. Like Tantalus Xander could see the fridge from where he leaned against the wall, almost smell the blood that lay inside. However, no matter how close it seemed it would always be out of reach for him.

The hyena stayed silent, a constant tense presence at the back of his mind. She could take back control of him at any moment as they both were aware of, it but she didn’t. She could sense that her actions had almost cost her the members of her pack and her distress radiated through him. The demon was entirely subservient to the commands of whoever was in control but Xander still refused to forgive the hyena for what she had made him do. Memories of his hands squeezing Jesse’s neck, enjoying the struggle as the boy panicked and slowly lost air, fighting Angel and delighting in causing him pain and then hurting Willow; Xander didn’t know if he would ever forgive the hyena for what she had done.

His thoughts felt muffled and confused and he leaned his head against the cool walls of the apartment, his head feeling heavy as his eyes closed out of their own accord. Then suddenly, out of nowhere he heard voices and he smiled gently to himself. His brain seemed to have provided him with the voices of the people he loved in his final moments and the thought cheered him slightly. An abomination like him had no place anywhere in this world and this was a preferable way to die; with his friends voices easing the way. He could hear their conversation but it didn’t make sense, muffling in his head and bouncing around as white noise.

“Jesse I told you, you didn’t need to come with me.” Willow snapped, voice sharp in indignation.

“Look you’ve only seen a tiny bit of what Xander’s capable off. You’ve seen the way Angel fights, he’s stronger than the both of us combined and then some, and yet Xander managed to take a good few chunks out of him before he stopped. So someone has to at least try and protect you from him.”

“You know what Jesse, at least admit to yourself why you’re here. You can lie to me all you like but don’t pretend that you don’t care for him, at least a little bit. Don’t pretend that you’re not curious to find out why he didn’t kill me, why Xander was so desperate to stay friends with you. At least admit to yourself that deep down you know Giles is wrong, about this anyway. He’s different to the vampires we slay and you know it.” Willow’s furious voice boomed in the silence, words jumbling together in Xander’s mind but still retaining some sense. That’s my Willow, he thought to himself and his heart warmed a bit at the thought.

A rattling sounded after Willow’s declaration and then a scraping noise, followed by a gentle click that interrupted the silence. 

“Where on earth did you learn to do that, Jesse?”

A pause followed before Jesse replied, voice sad and soft. “Xander and I both learned how to jimmy locks after we watched a cop movie ages ago. First time I put it to good use though.”

The door swung open but everything had blurred for Xander. Muffled exclamations came and then were swallowed up by the roaring in his ears. Concerned faces swung into his view and then a fierce arguments sounded, followed by hands gently moving him around. Fiery red hair appeared before his eyes as warm hands rubbed heat into his frozen skin. He was manoeuvred into a soft lap and then a dark face came into view, holding in his hands something that smelled like heaven. He felt his face shift, the sharp planes and edges of the demon and someone gasped before a straw came to his lips and he sucked at it, blood rushing into his mouth and running down his throat, healing and saving and warming him from within. He felt like it was bringing him back to life.

The first cup was rapidly gulped down and then Jesse returned with another cup which vanished as quickly as the first one. This process was repeated again and this time Xander felt more clearheaded, alert and gradually becoming aware of his surroundings. He realised his head was lying in Willow’s lap, the small redhead sitting with her back against the apartment wall and gently stroking his hair. His hands were still chained but Jesse stood before him, face carefully blank but holding out a cup of blood with a straw in it. Xander really didn’t want to think about why Angel would have green flexi-straws lying about his house.

Suddenly he lurched, manacles painfully tugging at his wrists as he jerked away from Willow and Jesse. “You have to get out of here. Get away from me, right now,” Xander muttered, scuttling as far away from his friends as the chains allowed.

“It’s okay Xan, we just came to make sure you were alright,” Willow exchanged looks with Jesse at that, her green eyes bitter and upset. “I just wanted you to know that I’m not angry with you about what happened. We know about the Hyena primal, we know that it wasn’t your fault and that you didn’t mean to hurt us.”

“No you don’t understand, you can’t be around me. I haven’t eaten in a while and even with this blood in me… I’m still dangerous and right now I don’t think that I can control myself. I need you to get out of here.” Memories flashed before his eyes, of Jesse, lying unconscious at his feet and Willow crying out in pain as her arm was jerked and squeezed in his grasp and he shuddered.

But Willow just smiled, reaching out her arms towards him. “I never stopped trusting you Xander. I know that you would never truly want to hurt me.”

Jesse just stared, not saying a word, but one hand crept into the front pocket of his jacket, where Xander could see the outline of a stake pressing against the material. His eyes never left Xander’s face, eyeing the pronounced facial ridges and the amber eyes with a blank stare.

Xander was about to speak, to tell them that Jesse had the right idea and that they should both flee before they got hurt when the front door opened, high-pitched feminine laughter tinkling into hearing and then abruptly stopping.

Angel had swung the front door open, his arm linked with Buffy’s and smiling gently at her. She had been laughing at something he said but the laughter had died down when they entered his apartment and took in the scene before them; Willow on her knees near Xander whose face was twisted into gameface and Jesse standing over them, a cup half-filled with blood in his hands from which protruded a florescent green flexi-straw.

Grabbing a stake from the bag swung over her shoulder Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her friends.

“If someone doesn’t tell me what’s going on right now and what that thing is doing here then Angel’s going to be doing a whole lot of sweeping in the future because he,” she cocked her head in Xander’s direction, “is about to become dust.”

Willow got to her feet, ready to leap to Xander’s defence when suddenly Jesse spoke, voice soft and angry.

“No Buffy, you listen here. Xander may be a vampire but he’s different to the monsters we hunt at night. I don’t trust him but the more I see him, listen to him talk… he still acts like my best friend, Buffy, like the Xander I grew up with. So maybe you should ask your Watcher why Xander doesn’t act like the soulless evil creature Giles said he would. Or maybe you should think about why Angel is excused for committing several centuries worth of death and destruction, for tearing his way through Europe and killing everyone in his path and yet you can’t forgive Xander for having a demon inside him.”

“Yeah but Angel has a soul now. Xander doesn’t. Xander’s all demon; the soul is long gone and therefore the Xander you knew is dead.”

“Well maybe you should ask your dear darling Angel why he’s starving Xander.”

Buffy turned to face Angel, who looked guilt stricken.

“I just… I wanted to weaken him so that he wouldn’t escape and hurt anyone again but it was only meant for one night. Buffy and I had to hide in an abandoned building last night because we finished patrolling too late and were caught by the sun and so I didn’t manage to get home last night. I didn’t mean to keep him hungry for so long.” He stared at Xander in horror, knowing full well the consequences of starving a vampire so young, especially since he had almost drained Xander when he had bit him.

Noisy arguments began all around them, Willow arguing with Buffy and Buffy declaring that she should stake Xander now before he did any more damage and Angel brooding quietly where he stood. But it was Jesse who climbed to his knees before Xander, clutching one big pale hand in his. He leaned closer to Xander, taking in the differences to his friends appearance. He fought monsters like this every night, watched Buffy quip as vampire after vampire turned to dust before her eyes. He had seen vampires kill classmates and friends of his, watched monsters with these same features revel in the blood they spilt, in the horror they created.

Giles had said that it wasn’t Xander any more, that he was looking at the face of the monster that had killed his best friend and for a while Jesse had believed him. After all Giles was the one with the knowledge, their mentor and the man who was keeping all of them alive. But lately Jesse hadn’t been so quick to trust the aged librarian.   
Clutching Xander’s hand tighter in his own he looked into Xander’s hopeful amber gaze, recognizing in those strange yet familiar features the boy who had been his best friend since they were kids. Leaning even closer to Xander Jesse whispered shamefully: “I’m so sorry, Xander.”


	14. Chapter 14

Angel lay in bed, cursing himself all kinds of fool for what he had done to Xander. The boy had annoyed him to know end when he had first taken him home, the fledge seeing straight through his guise and had been quick to point out that he was not as human as he thought, that he was still Angelus beneath the excuse of the soul. The lust, the burning desire to kill and feed; all of those were things that he had previously only associated with his demon. But somehow this kid, this boy, had unearthed emotions and feelings in him he had not felt for close to a hundred years. He had tried ignoring it, tried hating the boy and had been cruel to him, had even beaten him in anger, but the feelings remained.

Angel had tried his best to lose himself in Buffy, as he had been able to do before he met Xander. Buffy had his salvation and he had been obsessed with her; passion to the point of obsession as he searched for his redemption through her. He had looked at her and seen perfection and he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. But the more time he spent with her, the more Angel couldn’t help noticing her faults, the things he had noticed but avoided thinking about before. 

When Angel had been trapped inside that small, suburban hellhole of a house with Buffy, shiny Astroturf lining the pathway to the house and neatly painted peach walls, he could not help being drawn to the fact that she seemed to ignore that he was a vampire. That was the day he had forgotten to feed Xander and almost killed the fledge through sheer reckless stupidity and the guilty mass inside him seemed to rumble and pulse. Buffy did not seem to want to remember that he was not human, that while he may walk and talk like a man he had not been one for a very long time. Maybe not ever, really.

They had prepared themselves for bed, both exhausted after a night spent patrolling and they were about to bunk and wait for the sunset when Buffy, rubbing exhaustion out of her eyes with one hand, went to open the windows. She had been apologetic when Angel had yelped and jumped out of the way of the beams of light as they cascaded onto the spot where he had been lying only moments before, quickly pulling the blinds tightly shut. Buffy had claimed that she had only wanted some air to remove the stuffiness from the room but he could sense that she had simply done what had come natural to her and forgotten about him.

She treated him like a man but he wasn’t one and the knowledge of that, that he was preventing her from loving a man who would stand in the sun with her and that she was deluding herself thinking that Angel was human, had hurt. The stories she told him of her life, little things about homework and teachers and tales of boys that were designed to make him jealous, only reinforced the idea that they were from two different worlds. He remembered her words, thrown at Jesse and Willow only last week as she had fought them to stake Xander.

“That thing is not human and it’s not the friend you once had. It’s a monster with a human face, a demon and the only thing it knows is blood, death and pain. It’ll just as soon kill you all and smile while it eats you.”

It was almost as though she had forgotten that he was a demon, forgotten that Angel was a vampire, just like Xander was. He may have a soul but wasn’t that merely a conscience? There were days when he looked at Xander and thought that he was more human than Angel would ever be, soul or no soul. Memories of Xander’s words, thrown at him weeks ago, stung him like thorns, hurting all the more for their accuracy.

“Do you think that something like you is what she deserves? A boyfriend whose hundreds of years older than her, who can never take her into the sunlight and go on dates during the day… whose soul is constantly battling with his demon for control and seems to be losing...”

Thinking of everything he had done to the boy, the pain and the suffering he had put him through, Angel wondered if Xander really was right. If, in the constant battle between the demon and the soul, the soul was losing. And Angel didn’t know if there was anything he could do to stop it.

Closing his eyes, Angel tried to fall asleep. It would be hours later, as the sun slowly sunk towards the horizon, that his thoughts finally muted and he was able to drift off into an uneasy sleep.

~~~Xander POV~~~

It was the third time that day that he had caught Angel staring at him with an odd expression in his eyes whenever he thought that he wasn’t looking and Xander was getting irritated and restless. On anyone else Xander would have interpreted that expression to be guilt but on Angel, who brooded constantly regardless of the situation, it could have been anything. Regardless of what it was Angel had been almost… kind towards him lately, unchaining him when he was in the apartment to supervise his activities and allowing him to help himself to blood whenever he was hungry. Today Angel had even promised to unchain him for the day, regardless of the hyena primal still sentient within him.

The hyena had apologised, growled discontentedly for forgiveness within his head but every time he felt like caving to her comforting familial presence he remembered his own hands choking Jesse, squeezing his neck till he gasped and then making Willow cry out in pain. And then the shutters came down again and he ignored her whimpers for forgiveness. For a pack.

Jesse and Willow hadn’t been to visit him since that night when they had fought Buffy till she had left in disgust. The night Jesse had apologised. Angel had told him that there was a dangerous demon loose in Sunnydale, what else was new, and that everyone was busy trying to defeat it. Angel had said that they had promised to visit him and that Giles would be around soon to remove the hyena spirit from him, apparently not warranting him a high priority risk as opposed to the latest demon the Hellmouth threw their way.

Angel had spent the day pacing around the apartment, eagerly awaiting the sunset so that he could go meet the others to tell them about the latest whisperings he had overheard about the Master’s plan. The constant backward and forward motion was making him dizzy and he closed his eyes and nuzzled deeper into the couch. Time trickled on and then the door opened and banged shut, Angel’s stifling presence finally gone from the room. He stretched on the couch, feet dangling off the edges and then relaxed, tension flowing away as he drifted off into sleep.

A few hours later he awoke to the sound of the door opening and Xander sighed; Angel was home early which meant that something had gone wrong. Angel would not be in a happy mood if that was the case which never boded well for Xander. He lifted his head from the couch, eyes adjusting to the darkness and his throat went dry, unable to believe who had walked through the door. Feet wobbly as he stood, he stared at his visitor, in disbelief, eyes wide as his demon rumbled in his chest.

“Sire?”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to upload this. I'll try have chapters up every second day or so.

Blonde hair falling onto her shoulders and wearing the same odd Catholic schoolgirl outfit she had been wearing when she Sired him, Darla hadn’t changed since Xander had last seen her. And even after all the time that had passed, the heartbreak of being abandoned by a Sire while so young and being left all alone, she still evoked the same feelings of hopeless devotion as she had when Xander had first opened his eyes and realised that his heart had stopped beating and that he could hear the worms crawling beneath the dirt and dust of the earth.

His demon, passive for so long, sprung to the foreground of his consciousness, whining pitifully as Darla stared at him in evident confusion. Suddenly she snarled a warning at him and he dropped quickly to his knees, embarrassed that he had neglected proper etiquette with his Sire. Xander looked down at the floor, his head bent low in submission and he listened to the sound of her footsteps, exploring Angel’s apartment with occasional mutters of disgust, mocking the humanity in her childe. Xander twitched at the harsh bark of laughter that came from the kitchen as Darla opened up Angel’s fridge, already out of place in the home of a vampire, and found the packets of blood that filled it as well as the tubs of sugar-free strawberry yoghurt and other low-fat options for when Buffy came over.

A small hand suddenly grasped at his hair and pulled harshly, ignoring Xander’s gasp of pain. He stared at his Sire’s amber eyes with his own watery ones, pain immaterial in the face of the urgent burning desire within him to please his Sire. To force her to want him with at least a small bit of the passion with which he wanted her.

“You know what disappoints me, boy? I visit the home of my favourite childe, the one who surpassed even me in his creativity and bloodshed and I find him living like a human. Precious _Angel_ panting after a _Slayer_ , a little girl still in school, and drinking blood from bags like an animal. Not so long ago Angel chased after schoolgirls for the sweetness and purity of the blood. You should witnessed his passion for virgins and now this,” Darla sneered. “My favourite childe living above ground, adopting his own personal little pet and allowing the soul to neuter my vicious childe and keep him tame like a lapdog.”

She stared into the distance and then tightened her grip in Xander’s hair, ignoring his soft whine of pain. 

“But no more. Tonight we settle this once and for all.”

Darla glanced back at Xander in vague disgusted horror, looking down at him as though she was myxophobic and he was slime beneath her polished school shoes.

“And what am I going to do about you, boy? You proved useless on the night of the Harvest and here you are scrounging off my childe as though you still have a purpose for existing.”

The words hurt. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard the same thing from his parents, from the bullies at school, even from Darla herself but he had hoped that maybe something had changed since they had last seen each other. That maybe she had searched for him, that she was here to take him with her and keep him safe and loved. But she had told him before that he was too human for her, too pathetic and soft and useless and unlike Angel’s soul, his humanity couldn’t be removed. He had been made with it, woken up in the Master’s lair and soon realising that he was different, wrong. Of course she was here for Angel and couldn’t give a damn about him, her other childe. He was expendable.

Darla was still staring at him but this time in thoughtful appraisal. “I wonder,” her smile turned cold and harsh, “how would you like to please your Sire?” 

Her hand loosened in his hair and began stroking the pain away, soft and pleasant like a mother’s touch. Xander felt his demon responding, eagerly purring away at the unexpected gentleness. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was wanted by his Sire after all.

A small dainty hand appeared before his eyes and Xander grasped hold of it, allowing himself to be pulled onto his feet. Standing tall before his Sire Xander knew he would do anything possible to make her proud.


	16. Chapter 16

Xander huddled in a dark corner of Angel’s apartment, his large hands clumsy and awkward as they squeezed the knobbly stake Darla had shoved at him. His Sire sat serenely on the lumpy couch in the middle of the living room, the same one Xander had been sleeping on since Angel rescued him from the mansion and brought him home. Something inside him squirmed with guilt as he thought about everything Angel had done for him. 

Tonight, however, was the deciding night. Either Angel joined his Sire, their Sire, or he lost his life. Either way, it felt to Xander entirely like the end.

He had yearned for freedom. Craved it. Now it was here. A way out, a way to leave Angel’s house and either live with Jesse or Willow or if he pleased his Sire tonight, live with her. But now that the fantasy was about to become a reality it suddenly tasted like ash.

But Darla wanted his cooperation. And the demon, utterly desperate to please, was ready and willing to do anything she wanted. And if that meant killing Angel then so be it.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, drawing steadily closer to the front door. Xander held his breath, an unnecessary habit leftover from being human that was surprisingly difficult to break. The door swung open and then Angel appeared, tall and foreboding. The light bulb behind him flickered on and off and from one moment to the next Angel’s face flickered between its human planes and the demon lurking beneath the skin. The front door creaked as it swung closed and loudly slammed shut.

It was time.

~~~

Darla stepped out of the shadows, cruel smile playing on her lips as she took in the changes to her wayward childe. “It’s been too long, Angelus.”

Angel stared at Darla with wide, curious eyes; eyeing her up and down in disbelief.

“If I recall correctly you were the one who told me to leave and never come back, Sire,” Angel said. His gaze wandered around the room and focused in on the corner in which Xander was hiding. Xander didn’t move, didn’t blink or breathe in fear but Angel stared at the exact place where he was hidden in silence. Finally his gaze shifted back to Darla’s face and Xander could have sobbed in relief. Darla had told him that the most important thing he could do was stay hidden until she hinted for him to come out and if Angel spotted him now the gig was up.

“That was before. But now I know a way to get rid of the soul. I can help you, my sweet boy, and then we can find William and Dru. We can be a family again, as we were before. No more mooning over some teenage slayer who’ll soon be dead, no more living above ground in some shabby apartment like human scum. Come with me, Angelus.”

The pause that followed was stifling before Angel smiled sadly. “You know that I can’t do that, Darla. This is who I am now and… I can’t go back to being the monster I was before.”

“You can’t be both a human and a vampire, Angelus. It doesn’t work that way.” Darla smiled sweetly and walked closer to Angel, invading his personal space. “You belong in the dark, you revel, feast in it, belong in my world instead of cowering away in the shadows. Remember the things we did together. The feast we had in China during the Boxer Rebellion and tasting the blood of the fallen slayer on William’s lips. The blood, sweat and hysterics of the humans as they hurried along to their deaths and the fun we had while China burned. We can do all these things again if you just come back to me.”

Angel ignored her words, smirking instead. “What’s with the schoolgirl outfit, Darla? If I remember the rumours correctly you were a prostitute, too poor for any schooling and selling yourself on the streets to pay for food.”

Darla growled low in her throat. The sound made Xander shiver; his Sire was displeased. Xander wondered what Angel hoped to achieve by taunting Darla. Despite her small figure and timid appearance she was a vicious killer and making her angry was not a smart thing to do.

“I thought you liked schoolgirls. They always did make you hot,” Darla whispered maliciously. “Although not as hot as nuns, right Angelus? Do you remember the games we used to play with them, the things we did together? We cut them and made them bleed and cry and they died cursing God for what we did to them, for creating monsters like us. Do you remember fucking while they screamed and cried around us?” 

Angel’s body tensed in anger but his eyes were dark, haunted. “I’ll never forget what I’ve done, Darla. I cut a bloody swath through Europe, I slaughtered everything in my path and I enjoyed it. I did what I what I did with no remorse, with a song in my heart. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Do you believe that Buffy will be your redemption then?” Darla sneered.

“Not anymore,” Angel answered simply and Xander stared at him in disbelief. Darla, however, continued as though she hadn’t heard Angel speak.

“I can make Buffy bleed. I can kill your precious slayer and her watcher and all her cutesy little friends while you watch. Maybe I’ll even make her one of us; a real vampire slayer for you to spend the rest of your life with,” she laughed, delighted with her words.

Angel growled, morphing into gameface; his yellow eyes shining with fury. “You should know by now what happens when you threaten my family, Darla,” Angel spat, lisping through his fangs.

“You mean the family you mutilated while I watched, Angelus? Because we can arrange for that to happen again; you killing your precious Buffy while I laugh.”

Angel snarled in fury and grabbed his Sire by the arms, shoving her against the nearest wall. Xander remembered the pain of this action only too well but Darla just laughed, high pitched and slightly hysterical as she looked Angel in the eyes.

“You were a legend, Angelus. I gave up my Sire for you, I deserted him because I wanted to spend eternity with _you_ , hunting and fucking and watching the world burn at our feet. And you’ve chosen _humans_ , insignificant, delicate and flawed instead of your true family. I’m your Sire and I have every right to kill you, Angelus. You’re an embarrassment to the Order of Aurelius and that brings with it consequences. Choose your family, choose me, or you can burn along with your precious little slayer.”

Angel let go of Darla, his eyes pained and defeated. “I’m sorry, Darla, but I can’t become that monster again. It’s not a choice between you or Buffy, Sire. It’s a choice between earning redemption for what I’ve done or becoming that monster again and I can’t do that.”

“Then you can die, Angelus, and your precious humans will soon follow.” 

Xander felt cold and unsteady on his feet, a loud roaring sound booming in his ears as he heard Darla’s final words. He had to kill Angel, he had made a vow to his Sire and he had to obey that. 

Darla had promised him family; a Sire, a home and a friend if he followed her command. But what of Angel? Angel had taken him in, had fed and clothed him and given him a warm and safe place to sleep. Darla had abandoned him, ran away to save herself when the Master’s plan was foiled. Angel had taken over the role of Sire, even if perhaps he himself did not recognise it as such. Angel cared for him and lately, even after everything they had been through, Angel had become a friend to him. Thinking of Angel’s early morning’s exercises and the pale expanse of skin had appreciated from afar, Xander had hoped he might one day become something more. 

Xander moved forward a step, still huddled in the shadows but slowly inching towards the light. He knew what he had to do know. It would be simple, quick and Angel probably wouldn’t even feel any pain. Just one thrust with the stake would pierce his heart and Angel would be no more, just a memory floating on the wind. Suddenly something shifted in his soul; the hyena spirit announcing her presence for the first time in a while.

“You have a pack,” she whispered. “The demon and I, we’re your brothers, your kin. Darla does not understand but we do. You kill Angel and without him, the Master will kill Mr Giles and Buffy and Willow and Jesse. The Master will kill your pack and you will have helped in his plans. Darla does not care for us; she cares only for her own hide, but Angel has not abandoned us.”

Xander took one step forward and then another, stake gripped tightly in his shaking hands. His feet moved out of their volition, as though he had no control over his actions and then he was standing behind Darla, staring Angel straight in the eyes. The vampire looked pained and world-weary and something inside Xander ached at the realisation that Angel would not fight back. Angel’s familiar features grounded him, gave Xander strength. His eyes shifted to Darla’s small body, planted in front of him; so certain of his allegiance and blind obedience that her back was turned to him. 

“Just like you chose Angel over loyalty to your own Sire, I choose him over you,” Xander said quietly and plunged the stake through her back. Darla’s body withered as she gasped in pain and then before their eyes their Sire disintegrated into ash which floating gently onto the ground and mixed with the dust of the floorboards. 

Xander’s strength sapped and he crumbled onto the ground, his entire focus on the small pile of ashes before him. He had killed his Sire, his beautiful maker and Xander stared at the ground in disbelief. He realised that he was keening, sobbing in pain and loss and he didn’t care. A part of him was lost, some deep part that he had never realised he needed but without which he felt broken.

He had stabbed his own Sire and tears tinged with blood fell down his face, mixing with the ashes. He deserved to die, to perish and burn and bleed for what he had done. Xander had let go of the stake when he had pushed it through Darla’s chest and it lay near her remains, tantalisingly close to Xander’s right arm. 

Before he could reach for the stake strong arms encircled his body, holding them close as a gentle voice crooned in his ears. As the world fell apart Xander pressed his face to Angel’s chest and wept.

~~~

Several hours later Angel finally managed to get the distraught fledge off the floor and into bed. Losing one’s Sire was the most painful thing that could happen to a vampire, and those as young as Xander felt the pain more strongly than most. Angel felt as though a hole had been carved in his chest, like he was missing some vital part of himself that he could never get back. It burned and stung and every time he thought of his beautiful Sire the hole pulsed in agony.

Angel could still remember staggering out of the bar that cold night in Ireland, countless years ago. She had been so beautiful, so perfect and he knew then that he would have followed her anywhere. And he had, for centuries, until he had been cursed with the soul. Even then he crawled back to her, begged his Sire for another chance, for a family. But he was too human for her, not nearly as vicious and violent as she was and Darla had banished him from her sight, disgusted by what he had become.

Xander had protected him, killed his own Sire to save Angel’s life and was now suffering because of it. Angel had taken Xander to his own bed, the fledge unable to part from his embrace for even a second. He lay on his stomach, his face pressed against a large pillow into which he occasionally snuffled and Angel couldn’t resist gently stroking his hair, soothing the boy. Occasionally Xander would clutch the pillow tighter and whisper ‘Sire,’ keening with loss.

Angel moved closer to the fledge, spooning against his back and trying to relieve his pain. When Xander cried out for his Sire again Angel couldn’t help but try to calm the fledge down. One hand still stroking Xander’s hair he leaned closer and crooned against the boys back.  
“It’s okay, Xander. I’m here. Sire’s here.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I'm the worst person ever because I completely forgot about this story. I'm really sorry that it's taken so long but have some Xander and Angel bonding to make for it!

Xander woke up warm and secure, his body pressed flush against a firm muscular chest. One heavy arm was wrapped against his waist and when he shifted slightly it tightened convulsively, pulling him closer towards the lean body behind him. He couldn’t remember the last time he been held, the last time he had felt this protected and secure and Xander smiled in contentment. He was surrounded by Angel’s smell, held tight against his body and for the first time since being turned Xander felt like everything was the way it should be. Like he belonged.

Angel’s grip tightened around his waist and then relaxed as he woke up and stretched. Xander turned to face him, shy about everything that had happened.

“Good morning,” he said, oddly hesitant about breaking the silence. What if Angel threw him out of bed, disgusted that Xander was here with him? What if Angel was furious about Darla? The thought of his Sire made his chest clench, his demon pained at the thought of what he had done. Maybe Angel was just making Xander bide his time; lulling him into a fake sense of calm before killing, maiming or doing something even worse to him in revenge?

But Angel just smiled at him, a gentler look than Xander had ever seen on the older vampire. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Hurt. Afraid. Lonely. All of the above. I don’t even know where to start.”

Angel stared at him sympathetically and reached one large hand to cover Xander’s smaller one, gripping it tightly.

“I never got the chance to thank you for last night.”

Xander gaped at him in astonishment. “But I almost got you killed. I killed your Sire, the woman you were with for decades. What could you possibly have to thank me for?”

“You saved my life, Xander. You killed your own Sire to protect me but also to protect Buffy and Jesse and Willow and even Giles. I know how tied you can feel to your Sire when you’re still newly turned and yet, you killed her to protect all of us. I see that Willow was right. There’s something different about you because you’re not like any other vampire I’ve ever seen. You’re more human than them.”

Xander looked at Angel appraisingly for a moment, the silence around them stretching on as Angel stared back without responding. They were practically eye to eye and Angel’s bare legs had tangled with his when he had stretched earlier. They were so close that Xander could see small flecks of hazel and gold in Angel’s dark brown eyes and he stared at them, hypnotised.

Almost spontaneously Xander leaned forward and brushed his lips against Angel’s cool ones, feeling the slight rasp of stubble against his chin. The tip of Angel’s tongue gently touched Xander’s bottom lip, stroking softly and Xander gasped. Angel moved in closer and suddenly the intimacy was just too much, Xander pulling away quickly and drawing in shaky, unnecessary gasps of air. He prepared to be mocked, for Angel to express his disgust or scorn but instead Angel simply smiled and got out of bed. He put on a pair of grey sweatpants and moved towards the kitchen.

Xander found his clothing in a neat pile where Angel had folded it last night and dressed quickly, walking into the kitchen to be greeted by a gentle smile as Angel held a cup of warm blood out towards him. They drank in companionable silence, so different from the usual angry silences that accompanied breakfast back at home. His father was always too hungover in the mornings to bear any form of interaction and yelled viciously at his mother or him when they tried to start up conversation. This was… nice.

Breakfast finished, Xander went to sit on the worn couch he had slept on since he moved in with Angel. This was usually the time before sunset when Angel exercised and Xander would sit on the couch, discreetly watching and envying Angel’s fluidity and grace and even occasionally lusting after the older vampire. But this time, instead of instantly beginning his stretches, Angel shot him an enquiring glance.

“Have you tried out all that new strength and energy that comes with being turned?”

Xander mutely shook his head.

“I can help you discover that energy, channel it into making you stronger and help you use those newfound senses of yours. I can teach you to be more vigilant, so that no one will sneak up on you again.”

Xander practically bounced off the couch, beaming in delight. He had tried to mimic Angel’s movements in the past but they had been clumsy and uncomfortable and he had given up in favour of watching Angel performing them the proper way. Now he finally had the chance to join the older vampire and learn from him and Xander was not going to let the opportunity pass!

At first it was awkward. Angel took it slow, leading him through the motion, but Xander felt like he was inconveniencing Angel, like he was too uncoordinated and stupid to mimic Angel’s motions. It didn’t help that Angel kept gently touching him, guiding his limbs to where they were meant to go and shifting his arms or pressing against his back to correct his posture.

It was embarrassing to be this clumsy and awkward in front of someone so graceful and the gentle touches undid him, making him want to press against the strong body behind him and relish in the comforting caresses. Eventually the motions got easier and he got into the hang of it, encouraged by Angel’s praise and gentle smile. Xander couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed learning something so much. Probably never.

After a while Angel called the lessons to a standstill and sent Xander off to shower, the fledge turning the heat up full blast and relishing in the warmth that seemed to seep into his very bones. He got out of the shower, his skin pink and tingling, and dried off, only to find a cup of blood waiting for him, heated and absolutely perfect. Xander drank it while waiting for Angel to finish showering, feeling the stress of the past months trickle away. He had never felt so cared for and after being turned he never thought that he would ever get to experience something like this.

Angel came out from the bathroom with his hair perfectly dry and styled in that _unique_ way of his. Xander restrained the urge to smirk and instead watched Angel heat and drink his own cup of blood, waiting to see what would happen next. Maybe all the kindness Angel had displayed so far was just to make sure that he didn’t go insane with grief and now the vampire would turn cruel again; chaining him up and leaving him here while he went patrolling. Xander looked at the chains still heaped in a pile on the floor and shuddered at the thought. Even if Angel chained him up the happiness of the day, Angel’s kindness was enough for him at this point. It was more than he could have ever expected.

But instead Angel quietly finished his blood, rinsing the mug and getting his coat before turning to face Xander.

“I’m going to the library for a research session before we go patrolling. Want to come with me; see your friends?”

Xander grinned and practically bounced towards the door. His smile was apparently infectious because Angel grinned back gently. Angel opened the front door and they walked out of the apartment together, stepping into the cool night air.

This was the first time Xander had been outside since the night of the hyena possession and the air felt crisp and fresh. Xander could smell the sweet cloying scent of pollen, the sharp smell of cut grass and the primal scent of the earth. The hyena in him responded in joy, she had hated being cooped up, trapped inside and even his demon pricked up at the feeling. Everything smelt new, different and wonderful and Xander couldn’t resist. He changed into gameface, emerald eyes sparkling with joy and laughed blissfully at the feeling of freedom coursing through him. Angel stared at him oddly but didn’t comment, smiling a little at the fledge’s obvious joy at being outside.

Everything felt surreal and wonderful. It was a perfect day.


	18. Chapter 18

The narrow hallways of the school were intimidating at night. Jesse and Xander had committed any number of teenage acts of rebellion, from getting drunk and throwing up over kind old Mrs Brent’s rosebushes to trying the occasional cigarette, which had them both coughing and gasping for air, but sneaking into the school after dark had never crossed either of their minds. Being stuck in the building during the day ruined any desire to spend more time here voluntarily, especially at night.

But here he was; walking through the white hallways of the school with Angel. Xander never had any real desire to visit the school library before and he had no idea where he was going but Angel seemed to know the way. Willow and Angel had told him enough stories for him to realise that the library was where Buffy apparently spent her nights training and where Jesse and Willow spent their time researching the latest demon.

The sound of fighting could be heard from a distance as Xander and Angel approached the library doors. Xander pressed closer to Angel, anxious at the thought of seeing everyone again. Would Jesse and Willow still want to speak to him, to forgive him, now that time had passed since they had last seen him?

Xander knew how fickle apologies were, he had experienced enough of that kind of forgiveness from his parents. How often had his mother whispered that she was sorry for not interfering; lying sprawled over their ratty living room couch and gulping down mouthfuls of wine as she listened to her husband scream and berate Xander for his very existence? As she stared numbingly into her drink and pretended she couldn’t hear Tony hitting her only child. There were days when she sobered up enough to beg for Xander’s forgiveness and he had always given it to her, acting the role of the benevolent and loving son. How many times had the pattern repeated itself; the apology swallowed up by complete apathy the next time his dad got mad and took it out on Xander?

Xander took a deep breath and Angel pushed the library doors open. The library was brightly lit and rather cosy; Jesse and Willow hunched over one of the large dusty tomes lying spread over the small wooden table pushed to a corner of the room. In the centre of the room Buffy was kicking and punching a padded Giles who was painfully grimacing at the strength of her blows while pretending he couldn’t feel anything though the heavy cushioning.

Buffy turned towards the door and smiled brightly as she saw Angel. Her smile dimmed a little as Xander walked in but she quickly looked away from him; turning her attention solely on Angel and beaming at him with a sickly sweet smile. Giles looked exceptionally pleased at the interruption, wiping a trembling hand over his sweaty brow as he began taking off the heavy padded suit.

“Ah Angel, you’ve come to provide information regarding the latest demon spotted? Onlookers weren’t too clear on the description, of course, besides that it is large and horned and according to one woman it has a tail with a large metal spike on it. The police have ruled it all down to a bear attack which is preposterous…” Giles seemed to finally notice Xander’s presence and stared at him silently before offering a small smile. “Oh and hello Xander.”

At those words Willow and Jesse turned quickly, Willow crumpling the page she was turning in her shock. The library was completely silent for a few brief seconds before Willow jumped out of her chair and raced towards Xander, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Xander embraced her tightly, noting her familiar smell, her vivid red hair and how her small body fitted against his like nothing had changed and he relaxed into the hug, feeling a deep sense of relief at this display of obvious acceptance from his friend. Jesse stared at him from across the room before offering a crooked smile and walking towards them as well. Xander noticed that he didn’t even hesitate before wrapping his arms around the both of them and that it was all it took. He was whole.

It was Buffy who broke the silence, frowning as she stared at them. Xander supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised, after all Buffy hadn’t really known him; he had been turned too early for them to have the opportunity to become friends. She looked awkward and small just standing there, her hands clenched tightly into fists by her side.

“Can we get down to business or do you guys want some more time to catch up? I can just grab a seat and wait for you to hug out all your issues; it’s not like people aren’t dying out there while you’re making with the cuddles.”

Angel leaned against a bookshelf, looking as awkward and broody as ever, while the rest of them sat down around the table, Willow immediately grabbing one of the large books spread out on the table in front of them and beginning to flick through it again. Jesse sat next to Xander, taking two of the much smaller books and passing one to Xander while keeping the second for himself. While Giles took of his glasses and began polishing them Jesse slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out two crayons, handing a chipped yellow one to Xander and clutching a blue one in his hand.

“It’s for when you get bored,” Jesse whispered with a smirk and opened the book in front of him to a picture of a Nzareth demon who had a green moustache artistically drawn onto its facial scales. Xander stifled a giggle and then turned to pay attention to Giles, who had cleared his throat. Xander’s first Scooby meeting had begun.


	19. Chapter 19

Several hours and dusty tomes later, Xander’s eyes were beginning to water and they weren’t anywhere closer to finding out the identity of the demon spotted roaming around Sunnydale. Giles had given a brief and rather vague description of it based on eyewitness accounts and was now conversing quietly with Angel in a corner of the library. Willow, meanwhile, eagerly poured over two giant volumes, furiously flipping through pages and occasionally shooting piercing glares at Jesse who had long given up on researching and was now admiring a graphic drawing of a mermaid.

Buffy had left earlier, citing patrolling as the reason for her abrupt departure. However, Xander guessed that maybe this wasn’t exactly the case. Things weren’t going well in Buffy-land; Angel having shrugged off her hand when she placed it on his shoulder after he came in and then refusing to go patrolling with her. Xander had noticed the disgusted looks Buffy had been sending in his direction before she left. She knew that Willow, Jesse and him had been friends since before she had come to Sunnydale, had grown up together, but every time Willow beamed at Xander or Jesse flashed one of those shy pleased smiles in his direction, Xander would notice Buffy scowl.

The Scooby meeting was almost as boring as a last period algebra class on a warm summer’s afternoon but Xander couldn’t help but marvel that he was actually here. A part of their group.

**~~~**

Willow almost fell of her chair as she practically bounced in excitement, her face red as she deposited the large book she had been balancing on her lap onto the table.

“Mr Giles, I’ve found it! There’s a wholepage on the demon in here!”

Giles abandoned the conversation he had been having with Angel and walked over to Willow, looking over her shoulder and skimming the page quickly while muttering under his breath.

“Well done, Willow!”

Willow beamed at Giles and then looked around the room shyly, blushing at the attention everyone was focusing on her. Giles began explaining the characteristics of the demon, listing it’s sightings around the world in the last several decades while Angel chipped in occasionally with suggestions on how to kill it. But Xander couldn’t stop looking at the excitement on Willow’s face, not paying the slightest bit of attention to Giles’ lecture.

“Man eating… something, something… shoots poison from its spikes… decapitation proves difficult but not impossible… thick armour around its neck…”

Angel interjected something about blowtorches and Xander finally tore his gaze away from Willow and zoned in to hear the end of Giles’ speech.

“They travel alone and are notorious for suffering from intense aboulia but we should still be on our guard. We need to find Buffy and warn her of the danger.”

Giles quickly unlocked the weapon’s cabinet and rummaged around, handing a wicked looking sword to Jesse and a crossbow to Willow, who both took them with a look of grim familiarity. Giles hesitated before shooting a glance at Angel and then handing Xander a cumbersome axe, which Xander took in surprise. He couldn’t quite believe that they were trusted him enough to take him patrolling. His answer came a few minutes later when the gang began heading outside and Giles placed a hand on Xander’s shoulder, effectively holding him in place.

“Can I speak to you in private, Mr Harris?”

Jesse and Willow shot him a nervous stare but at his nod of encouragement they walked out of the library, quietly discussing something. Angel followed silently behind them.

“Angel has spoken to me regarding your _predicament_ and Jesse and Willow have both spoken to me on your behalf,” Giles said, his hands fidgeting awkwardly at his side. “While I am loath to agree with such biased reports on your character, I happen to remember you before all of _this_ occurred and you seem to resemble the young man I met in the library on my first day here. However, if you put my Slayer in danger be advised that I will not hesitate to stake you despite the convincing argument of your friends.”

Xander silently nodded his head in agreement. If he hurt Buffy or any of his friends in any way then he would let Giles kill him without a word of complaint.

Giles stared at him appraisingly for one long moment and then offered a small smile. “I have also been informed that you show remarkable control over the hyena primal but nonetheless the demon and the primal sharing a body can result in unpredictable circumstances. I feel it would be in everyone’s best interests if we reversed the possession spell as soon as possible, preferably tonight.”

Xander could feel the demon’s confusion and the hyena rumbling in the back of his mind, lost and afraid at the thought of being abandoned by her pack. He tried to reassure her as Giles opened the library door and he followed the Watcher through the darkened hallways, towards the entrance of the school, but he could feel her sadness and confusion. What if Giles was right and the hyena possession could lead to him hurting Jesse and Willow? Xander couldn’t bear the thought of hurting his friends but he wasn’t sure if he could give up a member of his pack so easily.

The rest of the gang were waiting for them at the entrance of the school and they began their trek to the cemetery that Buffy had said she would be patrolling in. Angel walked up to Xander, their shoulders brushing against each other as they walked.

“Is everything okay?” Angel asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah. Giles just gave me a lot to think about.”

The rest of the walk passed in comfortable silence. They combed the cemetery before they finally spotted Buffy, sitting on a tombstone and idly swinging her legs. She jumped up when she saw them, smiling brightly and Xander glanced curiously at Angel, trying to judge his response. To his surprise Angel was staring at him with a soft smile on his face, so unlike any expression Xander had ever seen on the normally pensive vampire.

At that moment the demon they had come here to find dropped onto the ground, hissing loudly at them.

“The book said nothing about them being able to climb trees!” Willow yelped, stumbling backwards and almost dropping her crossbow in surprise.

The demon looked like a giant lizard, standing tall on two sturdy legs, pointed horns sharp atop a small head. Its eyes were like golf balls, glowing yellow in the dark, and it bared its fangs at them as it hissed, spraying wads of saliva in every direction. Spikes decorated its body and a giant spike decorated the tip of its long tail, which whacked furiously from side to side. The demon tilted its small head in appraisal for a brief second, sniffing the air in contemplation and obviously decided that they looked good enough to eat, because it charged straight at them.

Buffy pulled a sword from the bag of weapons she had with her and swung it at the demon, almost flying backwards as her blow didn’t even leave a scratch on the thick armour-like skin. The creature lunged at Jesse, who was standing closest to it, who performed an impressive duck with practised ease. His sword managed to find a weak spot in the armour and the demon roared in pain, lime green blood steadily dripping down its chest. Bolstered by the sign of weakness, the Scooby gang launched into attack.

Xander ducked and dodged as he fought, the hyena helping him coordinate his movements and offering helpful advice. The axe was difficult to use, heavy and awkward, but he joined in the fray and managed a few good hits that still did little but graze the demon. He would have been putting up a good fight if it wasn’t for Buffy.

It was obvious that Buffy didn’t trust Xander. She fought beside him but any chance he had at truly using his preternatural abilities were hampered by Buffy’s mistrust. She would push him aside, away from Willow and Jesse as though she was scared that he would turn on them in the fight.

Xander ducked as the demon’s long tail swung his way but he felt it scratch against his back, leaving a sharp searing pain where one of the spikes had grazed him. He got to his feet in time to see the demon collapse near them, Angel’s long sword obviously finding a weakness in its armour and cleanly decapitating the demon. They all cheered in relief, Jesse helping a shaky Willow get to her feet and Buffy brushing the dust off her knees.

“Is everyone okay?” Giles questioned, taking a deep breath. Xander stared at him blankly, the words ringing and echoing in his ears but before he could say anything the world tilted sharply and the earth was coming towards his face and then everything went black.


	20. Chapter 20

Angel watched Xander collapse and panicked. He could smell the acrid stench of poison seeping into Xander’s body and both his soul and his demon worried at the thought of losing the fledge. The demon saw the boy as _his_ , as someone loyal to him who he would fight for and protect. The soul’s instincts were less base. The soul wanted Xander as an equal, as someone he could be devoted to and someone he would die to protect. As someone he could love. Angel wasn’t about to let Xander die on him.

Angel changed into gameface and with an animalistic whine raced towards Xander, lying sprawled on the damp grass. He was cold as ice and Angel quickly ran his hands over the prone body, checking it for the location of the injury. He couldn’t find any wounds on the boy so he gently turned him over, gathering the boy into his arms and whining in distress when he saw the deep cut running down Xander’s back. Blood was soaking the back of his dark blue t-shirt, leaving ink black stains. Xander was losing blood fast and meanwhile the poison was spreading through his body; burning and destroying everything in its path at a rate faster than the demon’s rapid healing abilities could fix the damage.

The rest of the Scooby gang gathered around Angel. Jesse wrapped his arms around Willow who was swaying slightly, her face pale and eyes wide as she stared at the damage done to her friend’s back. Even Buffy looked on in concern as Angel ripped the rest of the tattered t-shirt off so he could examine the wound in greater detail. Giles got on his knees before the stricken older vampire, leaning in closer to assess the wound. He tilted back abruptly in alarm when Angel growled in anger, his demon unhappy with his close proximity to Xander.

“Angel, listen to me. We don’t have time for this. There are still possible courses of action that we can take to save his life, so long as we act fast,” Giles said.

“There’s nothing we can do for him,” Angel’s voice shuddered with anguish. “The poison is running through his blood and burning his body from the inside. There’s nothing we can do,” he repeated softly.

The group stood silently, listening to Angel’s soft litany of words as he whispered to Xander, petting his hair gently as the blood continued to seep from the diagonal slash across his back.

Willow suddenly pushed herself out of Jesse’s arms, her face pale but her cheeks flushed red. “We can’t just stand here staring while he bleeds out. Give him your blood, Angel or do something useful!” she shouted at the older vampire. “He needs to feed so he can get some blood back or at least do _something_ because I’m not just going to stand here and listen to you brood while he turns to dust!”

“Of course, that’s it!” Giles exclaimed loudly, interrupting the gloomy silence that had followed Willow’s outburst. All eyes quickly turned to him. Giles cleared his throat softly and then continued, his words rushed in excitement. “The poison is moving through his bloodstream and Xander’s body is too weak to repair the damage it’s causing. But we’re still thinking of Xander as though he’s a human. It’s about time to embrace that he’s not!”

“So what exactly did you have in mind, then?” Angel asked impatiently.

“When a vampire turns a human they drain practically all of the blood from their victim before giving them some of theirs. So we simply ‘re-turn’ Xander, saving his life and in the process binding his demon to Angel’s. Xander would effectively become his childe.”

Angel suddenly looked hopeful, looking at Giles contemplatively. “That could work. He’s almost at the point of being totally drained anyway, we’d just need to speed up the process a bit.”

“What about the hyena?” Jesse asked, turning to Giles.

“When a mortal is suffering from a physical ailment being turned effectively acts as a sort of _rebirth_ , curing them of whatever plagued their natural lives. History has it that Darla was in fact dying of syphilis when she was turned by the Master. However, when an individual has been cursed or possessed, the effects of it remain even after being turned. In fact, in the case of possessions, the spirit often merges with the demon to become more dangerous than a normal fledge.” Giles looked down at Xander’s pale face and then sighed. “It’s a risk I’m afraid we shall have to take.”

“So it’ll save him?” Willow asked quietly.

“We’ve got nothing to lose right now. If we don’t do something soon he’s going to die,” Angel responded and held Xander’s limp body closer to his own.

“But Angel, do you really want him tied to you for the rest of your lives?” Buffy asked, ignoring the heated glares aimed at her for voicing such a question. “Xander’s going to be your responsibility for a long time and you’re going to have to be his sire. Do you really want that?”  

“Yes,” Angel responded simply before taking out the sharp knife he carried with him everywhere. The other’s stepped back in alarm as Angel pressed his knife to the skin of Xander’s upper arm and pressed down, creating a small cut that began seeping blood. He moved the knife in a straight line, blood welling in its track as skin parted under the edge of the blade. Blood began pulsing out at an alarming rate and Angel leaned his head closer to the cut, sniffing at the acrid smell that was so different to the usual sweet scent of his boy. He rested his head against Xander’s cool cheek, monitoring his condition closely.

Slowly, painfully, the blood flow began to slow; Xander’s face turning almost translucently pale. Blue veins could be seen under skin that had turned wrinkled and rough like parchment and his eyes remained open and unblinking.

Angel remembered his sweet boy; pretending to be a marauder, explaining to him about video games and the internet and pestering him to get a television for their apartment. He wondered if what he was about to do would even work. What if Xander woke up completely different, a vicious violent animal like most fledges were? What if this didn’t work and Xander died?

Shaking his head slightly to stop the negative thoughts Angel took a deep breath and bit into his wrist sharply, his blood hot and slick as it trickled out of the wound. The air around them felt static and ripe with tension as he brought his right hand to Xander’s mouth, his left hand gently rubbing the back of Xander’s head. He waited for Xander to begin feeding, to feel the familiar suckling and pulling at his wrist as a childe took their first few gulps of the blood that would save them.

And nothing happened.


	21. Chapter 21

The small group huddled around Xander’s still body, the silence around them oppressive and overwhelming. Everyone was still, Angel clutching Xander desperately to his chest, his bleeding wrist pressed tightly to Xander’s slightly open mouth. Then suddenly, Xander’s hand twitched and his throat muscles started working as he began gently suckling at Angel’s bleeding wrist. Angel sighed in relief, carding his fingers through Xander’s curly hair while Willow almost sagged in Jesse’s arms. The fear and tension drained from the small group and even Buffy couldn’t help but smile as they watched Xander regain some colour in his pale cheeks.

Xander had woken to the burning sensation of pain, gasping for breath as it ripped through his body. The warm cloying sensation of blood covered his back and arms, sticky and unpleasant as it slowly dried on his skin. His gasp allowed some more liquid to dribble down his parched throat and suddenly his entire universe centred on the cool wrist held to his mouth and the warm rush of blood as it entered his mouth. It smelled like Sire, like family and home and comfort and both the hyena and the demon settled within him, calm and satisfied.

When he had first woken up in the tunnels under Sunnydale everything had been confusing and different, more stark and desperate and feral. This time he awoke to a feeling of peace and family, of pack and _Sire_. Angel held him in cool and comforting arms, gripping his body tightly to a firm and familiar chest. This was what he had been missing when he had been turned, what he had been craving as a vampire but also for the duration of his human life.

Xander leaned back into the embrace and felt one arm tighten around his body, the other still coaxing stray droplets of blood into his mouth. The feeling of light-headedness had passed and the pain had stopped, so Xander licked the wound on Angel’s wrist closed, the older vampire shivering a little as Xander’s tongue gently lathered the delicate skin of his wrist. The large cut on his back, that had soaked his t-shirt with blood and that had almost killed him was now gone- leaving behind a slightly raised red line that Xander knew would fade by morning.

Willow behind them made an impatient noise, obviously eager to examine Xander’s condition for herself and so Xander climbed shakily to his feet, the floor spinning a little beneath his feet. She immediately leapt into his arms, ignoring the blood caked against his naked back and streaked down his arm. She buried her face in his neck and sniffled.

“Oh Xander, we were so worried!” Willow cried. She stepped out of Xander’s arms and narrowed her eyes at him before slapping the back of his head painfully. “Don’t you ever worry me like that again!”

“Yes, mother,” Xander replied. They grinned at each other but Xander noticed that when Willow turned away from him her eyes were wet and glistening with unshed tears.

Jesse had been standing back and watching their exchange with a smirk and when Willow moved back, Jesse moved in to hug him.

“Nice to have you back, man,” Jesse said.

Even Giles looked relieved to see Xander looking better and while Buffy wasn’t smiling she certainly seemed less hostile towards him than she had ever done since he had been turned.

Angel had stood up as well, looking paler than usual and swaying slightly, unsteady on his feet. Xander lusted after the older vampire, had wanted him as a sire and as a member of his pack and had craved after any crumb of attention that Angel threw his way. His wishes and deepest desires had come true and Xander had never felt this connected with another person before; so worried and caring about someone else that it was almost as though they were an extension of his own being. Seeing Angel so obviously weakened and exhausted made Xander yearn to protect his sire in return.

Xander walked up to Angel and wrapped an arm around his waist, grounding the older vampire. He turned to the small group around them and smiled at them in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

“We’re going to go back to Angel’s before sunrise but Angel will probably meet you in the library again tomorrow,” Xander said, his voice shaking a little as he realised for the first time just how truly exhausted he really was.

Xander was preparing to lead Angel out of the cemetery when Buffy walked up to them, practically bumping Xander out of the way as she approached Angel with a breezy grin.

“Angel, come see me when you get better. I want to talk to you about what’s going with us.”

Angel stared at her in confusion; his gaze slightly unfocused. Xander tightened his grip around Angel’s waist as Angel leaned against him and with a final smile to Willow and Jesse they slowly shuffled off towards home.

The moon was bright and although it was early morning they still walked past several people on their way back to the apartment. Xander wondered what the people must have thought of them- two pale men liberally streaked with dried rivulets of blood, Xander with his shirt off and one arm wrapped around a sickly looking, stumbling Angel. However, the citizens of Sunnydale continued to live up to their reputation. While everyone they met kept their distance, no one approached or called the police in panic and soon they arrived at Angel’s front door.

As soon as they entered Angel went straight to the fridge, shifting to gameface and biting into a plastic blood bag without bothering to pour the contents into a cup, or indeed heat it. He immediately regained some colour, looking healthier. The second cup of blood was poured into a cup and placed into the microwave, along with another cup of blood for Xander. They both gulped the warm blood down gratefully, feeling infinitely better almost immediately.

Xander showered while Angel gulped down a third cup of blood, pleased to finally scrub off the flaky copper blood that had caked onto his skin. His skin flushing pink and warm to the touch, Xander reluctantly got out of the shower, dressing in the old clothes he had been sleeping in since he had moved in with Angel. Then it was Angel’s turn to shower while Xander gulped down another cup of blood, the deep aching in his bones finally subsiding as the blood warmed him from within. The hyena whined happily in his head before quietening down, resting peacefully inside his consciousness and seeming utterly content with life.

Angel left the shower and collapsed onto his bed, wearily pulling up a sheet until it covered most of his back. Xander stood awkwardly in the centre of the living room, uncertain as to whether Angel expected him to go back to sleeping on the couch or whether he was allowed to crawl up in bed with Angel as he had last night. He started to make his way towards the couch, head down in misery, when Angel’s voice sounded from the bed.

“Your side of the bed’s getting cold so hurry up and get in,” Angel said, his voice fond.

Xander grinned and moved towards the bed before stopping suddenly as Angel spoke again.

“Oh, and turn off the lights,” Angel muttered into his pillow.

Xander snorted in amusement, switching off the lights and crawling into bed. A heavy arm settled around his waist, tugging him closer to Angel’s body. He relaxed into the embrace; enjoying the security of Angel’s presence, the comfort of his sire that he had craved for so long and had almost given up on.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Angel whispered softly into Xander’s hair.

Xander fell asleep with a smile on his face.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter guys! Thanks for sticking with it, despite the ridiculous length of time it took for me to update this. I've been contemplating a sequel to 'Twisting the Harvest' for a while now, so if anyone's interested, please let me know and I'll see if I can track down my muse from the long holiday she's been on.

Xander woke up first; the sound of cars speeding outside their window irritating his sensitive ears. He sat up against the pillows, his back resting against the headboard and thinking of the strange rollercoaster ride his life had been for the past several months. Xander could remember being human as clearly as he could remember the events of the previous night. He remembered the bitter feelings of loneliness that he had been unable to shake. In the middle of the cafeteria, in the middle of joking around with Willow or Jesse or just watching a movie at home; sometime the loneliness would hit him so hard it was like a physical blow to the chest. He was always smiling with his friends and the perpetual jokester of the group, but inside Xander had been slowly dying. Thoughts of how he was utterly useless compared to his perfect friends and how he was all alone in the world, a waste of space, constantly rattled around in his head.

Sometimes he couldn’t help but believe that his friends just saw him as a clown. Someone to make them laugh while they were upset, make them smile when life was hard. He would always be there for his friends, selflessly giving them his all and expecting nothing in return. It had always been a pleasant surprise to discover that they cared about him, to receive kindness always felt like a novelty, an incredible gift that he didn’t deserve. He had never received it from his parents, who were supposed to be bound to protect him, to love him with all their hearts, so why should he receive it from people who had no obligation towards him? He had kept up the clown act, the joker, the zeppo as a way of making himself more appealing. Because even after so many years of friendship Xander was constantly terrified that they would all just walk away and abandon him.

The night of The Harvest everything had twisted; turned on its head. Jesse had abandoned him and Willow had cared for him but kept her distance, chaining him up as though he was a dangerous animal. It had been the lowest point of Xander’s life and he had thought it would be his breaking point. No one wanted a monster like him and he had retreated further and further into a fantasy land where Jesse and Willow were by his side. Where they accepted him for who he was and didn’t send him away for something that wasn’t his fault.

Then Angel had come along and for the first time in a long time Xander allowed himself to hope. Angel was broody and mercurial; struggling to restrain his demon when it was so close to the surface and eager to be let free and feast. But Angel had fought his own personal demons and had come out victorious. Despite everything Angel had been kinder to him than anyone had been in a long time and Xander didn’t have to pretend, to put on a mask and play out an act for him. He could be himself and despite all the odds it seemed that Angel had fallen for him as well.

The older vampire was still asleep, his face mashed into his pillow and his hair ruffled and sticking up at the back of his head. Xander found it strangely endearing, poorly restraining a snort of laughter because Angel opened one brown eye and stared blearily at him.

“It’s early. Go back to bed,” Angel muttered into the pillow. He closed his eyes and turned slowly onto his back, his naked chest slowly baring as the blanket they had been sharing slid down to settle on his hips. Xander watched it move with hungry eyes. Angel seemed to smell the rapid change in Xander’s emotions and opened his eyes lazily, grinning gently up at Xander.

“Good morning,” he said with a soft smile which Xander couldn’t help but feel compelled to return.

“You should smile more,” Xander blurted out suddenly. “It suits you.” He stared down at the sheets in embarrassment but Angel just moved one hand to cradle Xander’s face, tilting his head up until Xander was looking directly into Angel’s eyes.

“Now that I’ve got I’ve got plenty to smile about I’m sure I’ll smile more,” Angel said softly. His hand stayed cradled against Xander’s face, enjoying the way Xander held himself still for it, moving almost imperceptibly to press his face against Angel’s large hand.

Angel sat up slowly, regretfully moving his hand away. Instead he leaned his face towards Xander’s, capturing those soft lips into a gentle kiss. Xander leaned away first, his eyes slightly dazed but a frown on his lips.

“Where exactly do we stand, Angel?” Xander asked with more bravery than he actually felt. “I like you a lot, you know that, or at least I hope you know that. You _should_ know that, because it doesn’t feel like this is one sided. But if you’re just using me and going after Buffy as well then… well I can’t do that. I don’t know Buffy very well and all but I’m not going to be your piece on the side while you’re with Buffy. Xander and cheating are unmixy things like oil and... well whatever it is that oil doesn’t mix with.”

Xander was proud that his voice didn’t tremble once during that speech, even if he had babbled at what felt like a million miles an hour.  Xander had a nasty feeling that if Angel rejected him now then he going to break into a million pieces.

“Even before I met Buffy I was convinced that I would love her. That she would be my salvation. But she’s so young and mortal and deep down some part of her will always see me as the enemy. A _thing_ , just like all the other creatures she kills night after night. She forgets what I am because she wants me to be perfect but I’m so far from the image of perfection that she sees. There can never be anything between Buffy and I.” Angel looked pained at the admission but almost relieved at the same time. As though admitting it aloud had removed all trace of doubt from his mind. “I’m going to tell her tonight that nothing can happen between the two of us and I hope she’ll come to understand that it’s for the best. She needs someone who can see her in the light, who can love her like she deserves to be loved.”

“Do you think, maybe, something can happen between us?” Suddenly shy Xander stared at down at the bed, dreading Angel’s response.

“You’re what I’ve spent 200 years looking for, Xander. You’re my strong and beautiful childe and my demon wants you. But you’re also special to my soul, Xander. I can’t describe it but I chose you, not her. Remember that.”

“Maybe we can abscond? We can escape Buffy’s retribution and hide out somewhere where it’s warm during the night. I’ve always wanted to go see all the states of America.” Xander said with a grin.

“Let’s start small,” Angel laughed. Angel looked infinitely younger when he laughed; the pain of constantly fighting with his demon, of remembering countless decades of bloodshed and torture and chaos erased from his face and making him look like the young man he had been before he died. “I can buy a TV if you still want it? We can have something to do during the day because I’m sure you’re sick to death of reading the books around here and watching me exercise.”

“I’ll have you know watching you exercise is the highlight of my mornings,” Xander responded with a smirk. Before he could back out he leaned over towards Angel and kissed him again, stunned at his own audacity. Angel tangled one large hand in Xander’s hair, fingers playing with the soft curls and pulling Xander in even closer. Xander’s side was pressed against Angel’s, one hand grasping Angel’s shoulder and the other rubbing against Angel’s stomach. When they broke apart Xander was gasping, his lips red and slightly swollen and Angel looked dishevelled; panting slightly.

“We’ve got all of eternity to figure out what we want to do,” Angel said softly. He covered one of Xander’s hands with his own larger one. “But we’re in it together for the long haul, childe. You’ll never be alone again.”

The hyena gave a laughing bark of excitement and contentment and the demon growled in happy agreement. Xander just curled up against Angel’s chest and smiled happily.

 

**THE END**


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